I feel no regrets.
I look above and there is a saint.
(This one is supposed to make me prosper
and my piece of land grow wheat
only to grant me a place to live
inside a king’s realm)
My sorrow. My day.
I devoted it to pray
for a beloved one that has passed away
Happiness is just a matter of placing compliance
I’ve gotten used to the annoyance
of putting myself aside.
My wishes are tamed screams my
own hands press not to come out. Mouth
I use it to agree rather than deny
unless I’m told so
The coin hits the bottom of the money chest
My beloved one’s soul is free now
That’s what they say
I can’t see
but they know better
I follow. I obey.
Now I must go
and give the king his share of food for the day
Maybe I won’t starve for the night
and one more day will come
for me to live as free
as my deceiving (but convenient) mind says I do
by José Ruy Pimentel de Castro