I never confessed to you
That what I told you about David was a lie
The fearsome giant of my story…
That giants learn to be alone,
They are more vulnerable than children.
There are good giants crying at night
And evil dwarfs who kill sparrows.
I never told you that I feared you grow
That there was no one
To hear the stories we invented.
Never told you that we, seniors,
Didn´t want to grow either,
Didn´t want to discover ourself
-half children and half adults-
in other different theatre footlights.
And you were transferring your role as a small boy
And one day, without stones
To return home,
-follow-bent on the sly-
in our street we found you,
around a corner,
(From Cemetery of sparrows)