In the silence of the night, a break interrupts the walking of the water along the banks of the river and disperses among the shadows of the elms, which dance like snakes to the beat of the magic flute of the wind, along with the songs of the owls and the flapping of some bats, joining the sad picture that stars a lonely man with his heart made ashes of love.
Under a starry sky that the clouds do not let us see, a ray of the moon, bright and silky, hits in the middle of a clearing that opens in the forest, signaling the place from where a man who has lost hope, clings for not losing your sanity too.
His lament is so deep that the stones shudder, the reeds break and the skin of the earth cracks, absorbing the water and mineral salts of each drop of bitter tear that has come off the cry of eyes sore with pain.
He cries out his anguish, proclaims his discouragement, shares his grief with the mocking mountains that echo back, the vermin chuckles from their hiding places, the ghosts that dwell in the forest murmur, the wind whistles in his ears suggesting madness and madness.
He begs, finally, to reach the epilogue of his existence, since an empty life possesses the value of a body without a soul, and in the soul reside authentic sensitivity, harmony and beauty, which are despised by the outdated charm of matter, connoisseur only of vanities and superficialities.
But the clouds are already bleeding on the horizon, a prelude to the metaphor of the fiery bird, which, knowing the misery of the world, does not hesitate to be reborn every morning to put light where before there was only darkness, to illuminate dark hearts and ignite life. to the dying.
Lying on the ground, exhausted without any more strength and with a couple of dry tears on his cheeks, it was that vision of the first rays of sunlight bathing his face nestled in the fallen leaves, which managed to return the consolation.
‘But if you are not here, if you go, the moon wanes and disappears
and the stars will find it and discover that my tears are waving somewhere,
with no protection other than my own loneliness.
And now dying would be no more misfortune than losing you forever … ‘
Today my song is: ‘ You know ‘Álex Ubago
