Epíleg [English translation]

I’m carrying shoes inside my bag

and a flower of a thought

hidden in my hat

so that the wind couldn’t touch it,

so that I can remember it

and understand the animal

that we all have inside us but nobody feels it1.

You know that all of these were details,

words at the teeth,

sitting like memories

in a box of present time.

A small imperfection

that makes move every click

made by the clock

while you feel the moment pass by.

Maybe for a time already too long

we don’t understand that the wind

doesn’t blow in favour of our bodies,

too focused on their skin and bones.

Maybe it’s not needed anymore,

maybe you don’t see it anymore.

We’re the exact science,

the expiry of the act,

the sound that the phone does

when it doesn’t ring,

and you no longer find anything of you

floating in your memory.

We sense a trace of a path

that from afar has lost the flame;

the distance creates it of oblivion,

of questions and angles.

And you climb higher

so that it would never be said

that you haven’t tried to see the smoke.

You know that all of these were mirrors

that kept burning together with the sun,

papers that we’ve already lost,

remnants that we’ve never found

of the hasty minutes

that make move every click

made by the clock

while you feel the moment pass by.

Maybe for a time already too long

we don’t understand that the wind

doesn’t blow in favour of our bodies,

too focused on their skin and bones.

Maybe it’s not needed anymore,

maybe you don’t see it anymore.

We’re the exact science,

the expiry of the act,

the sound that the phone does

when it doesn’t ring,

but there you can hear another voice

floating in your memory.

1. Or "hears it"; "sentir" can mean both these things and each of them is probable in this case, I think.

• Artist:Blaumut
• Album:0001 (2020)