Te escribo desde el destierro. Soñé con una casita al fondo del potrero. Sembrabas amapolas y los chicos se entretenían cazando mariposas. Pasada la frontera, me entregué a la migra. Me han puesto en arresto, me van a enviar a una prisión bajo tierra.
Se han roto de momento todos los sueños de progreso.
Se vive una muerte lenta entre paredes. Las luces nunca se apagan. Es una muerte blanca. Cientos de cámaras asisten impasibles al ahorcamiento de un recluso en el comedor. Al dar sus últimos estertores, han venido dos guardias y lo han liberado de las sábanas en el cuello.
Sufro de dolores de cabeza horribles. Me voy con el guardia y trato de explicarle de los dolores. Me ha mirado como se mira un perro. Entonces le he dado un cabezazo. Le partí la nariz y brotaba sangre azul.
Juro que era muy azul cuando se abalanzaron a darme patadas.
Pasé par de semanas en un agujero. Me acompañaba una odiosa gota de agua. Igual el tiempo pasó a ser una ilusión.
En ese puente donde me entregué se quemaron mis ideas; ya no tendríamos casa. No volvería a sentir tu olor.
Te dejo estas líneas. Son fe de que mi vida ha llegado a su fin.
I am writing to you from exile. I dreamed of a little house at the bottom of the pasture. You planted poppies and the children entertained themselves hunting butterflies. After crossing the border, I turned myself in to the migra. They have put me under arrest, they are going to send me to an underground prison.
All dreams of progress have been shattered for the moment.
A slow death is lived within walls. The lights never go out. It is a white death. Hundreds of cameras watch impassively as an inmate is hanged in the dining hall. As he gives his last gasps, two guards come and free him from the sheets around his neck.
I suffer from horrible headaches. I go to the guard and try to explain to him about the pains. He looked at me like a dog looks at a dog. Then I headbutted him. I split his nose and blue blood gushed out.
I swear it was very blue when they swooped down and kicked me.
I spent a couple of weeks in a hole. I was accompanied by an obnoxious drop of water. Time became an illusion anyway.
On that bridge where I surrendered my ideas were burned; we would no longer have a home. I would never smell your scent again.
I leave you these lines. They are proof that my life has come to an end.
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
