.

Perhaps when you’re alone, at night, in your place
You will hear that someone calls you without you knowing who they are
And so you will learn, that there are things like the wind
That really exist, but you can’t see

And it is also possible that one haste filled afternoon
Like a flower blooms, you’ll feel an urge
And so you will learn that there are things like the river
That are always leaving, but they never leave

Or crossing the street, your laughing heart
Will remember a heartache you didn’t have yesterday
And so you will learn that there are things like dreams
Things that have never been, but that could

Even if you prefer to ignore these things
You will know why you sigh while listening to a song
And so you will learn that there are things like roses
Things that are beautiful, without knowing that they are

And during any afternoon, you’ll feel as though you have left
And an ashy breeze will be spread in your garden
And so you will learn that time and forgetting
Are the things that never end.

José Angel Buesa, Poema de las Cosas