My Lover the Sea

I am that child
with the round, dirty face
who on every corner
bothers you with his “Can you spare a quarter?”

I am that child with the dirty face,
no doubt unwanted,
that from far away contemplates
coaches where other children emit laughter
and jump up and down considerably

I am that unlikeable child
definitely unwanted, with the round dirty face
who before that giant street lights
or under the grandames
also illuminated or in front of the little
girls that seem to levitate
projects that insult of his dirty face

I am that angry and lonely child of always,
that throws you the insult of that angry child of always
and warns you:
if hypocritically you pat me on the head
I would take that opportunity to steal your wallet

I am that child of always
before the panorama of imminent terror
imminent leprosy, imminent fleas,
of offenses and the imminent crime.

I am that repulsive child that improvises a bed
out of an old cardboard box and waits,
certain that you will accompany me

by Reinaldo Arenas