From Havana I remember that an old and bearded tree barking at dawn. He made him bothering the cry of a sick and false car that wandered down a narrow street without shadows to flee.
a little further north, where the winds come dry, the people danced in front of a calm and broken sea. His meats were precise and his rhythms, proud of rules, invested without prayers or sex. He smelled of female and shampoo. There we saw an indecent sunset, with a silent and sad family, in which the sun dissolved over six waves.
Then, Already in the broken center of the city, The night fell to lead on the wandering dogs that altered did not know how to say goodbye. Suddenly some music sounded in a garito and there were all, With his thin rabbis and his ribs in flower, hoping someone to remind them why they were not dead.
accommodate their sweaty hands on the restless hips of the others
Within, The tobacco smoke explained that there was a yesterday, and foreigners, that drank liquid sugar in various shapes and colors, They tried to accommodate their sweaty hands on the restless hips of the others. The early morning seemed to twist and they, The people of this earth, They created art with ingenuity blows to deceive their hunger.
I remember a man who sang sad songs with a man who sang happy songs. They made it accompanied, breaking the logic that dictates that tears and laughs only deserve in burials.
tears and laughs only deserve in burials
From a high terrace in a rotten building, still dark, I saw an empty frame that appeared to the city explaining that Havana is a picture that revives after death. I, worried about understanding it, I observed that some house lamps were turning off in total disorder. He slept without rules, main indication that precedes the chaos of men.
Then, next morning, When the light demolished consciences and souls, they looked back again to the balconies, I got in the uneasy life because a blow or a shout would have knocked him down, the worst, Ordered everything. And again the streets taught the old lesson of Havana converted into a conviction: nothing is needed to be. And then he contemplated men and women aimless and beyond the impudence of his smiles, the sadness of his bitter victory was intuited…
A tree bark, a dog was barking and barking a man.
