En este día tan brumoso he decidido dejar de llorar.
Dejar de pensar en el pasado, en los días cálidos de la juventud que me vio caminar con paso firme.
He decido apreciar la belleza que me rodea
los árboles que he plantado
las amistades que me quedan.
Después de todo, no todo debe ser "miel sobre hojuelas"
Mi padre me lo decía cuando me levantaba a las cuatro de la mañana para trabajar.
"Las cosas así son. Hay que dominar la vida como hombres"
"Hay que enfrentar al toro por los cuernos"
"Como viene y nada más"
"No pidas un poco más de sueño. Levántate, sacude tu cabello, que la jornada es larga y el pago es poco."
Cuánta razón tenías papá. No hay navidad para los pobres, mas que la que se quieran ganar.
Mas que aquella que se quieran ganar con el sudor de su propia frente.
Por eso este día, aunque camine cansado
recuerdo las palabras de mi viejo que ahora está descansando.
Todo depende de mí, de mi propio esfuerzo.
De tener conciencia de todo aquello que puedo hacer.
De aprender las cosas que generen valor en esta vida y no en sueños o ilusiones de otra vida.
Y de dejar de llorar por aquello que tuve y hoy me parece tan lejano y difícil de alcanzar.
Por eso queridos amigos en esta navidad no pido nada porque tampoco puedo dar.
En esta Navidad me doy a mí mismo un regalo,
la decisión de dejar de llorar.
Poesía y fotografía
@saulos
On this foggy day I have decided to stop crying.
To stop thinking about the past. About the warm days of my youth that saw me walk with a firm step.
I decide to appreciate the beauty that surrounds me,
the trees I have planted,
the friendships I have left.
After all, not everything has to be "honey on flakes"
As my father told me when he got up at four in the morning to work.
"Things are like that. You have to master life like men"
"You have to face the bull by the horns"
"As it comes and nothing more"
"Don't ask for a little more sleep. Get up, shake your hair becayse the day is long and the pay is little."
How right you were, dad. There is no Christmas for the poor, except the one they want to earn.
Except the one they want to earn with the sweat of their own brow.
That is why today, even though I walk tired
I remember the words of my old man who is now resting.
Everything depends on me, on my own effort.
On being aware of everything I can do.
On learning the things that generate value in this life and in dreams or illusions of another life.
And on stopping crying for what I had and today seems so far away and difficult to achieve.
That is why, dear friends, this Christmas I ask for nothing because I cannot give either.
This Christmas I give myself a gift,
the decision to stop crying.
Poetry and photography
@saulos
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