From my Dad’s book Under de shadow (Sombrabajo).
“There will never be one door”
Jorge Luis Borges.
I have opened doors my own way.
There were many doors and walls.
The world wanted to be a closed space
hardly omissible by the blue outdoors.
Neither the aggressive and vigilant day
nor the night of the deepest abandonment
stopped my faith and my firm hand,
my upright heart, mi persistent word,
what I could call my certainty
of being in the rightful jurisdiction
of my dreams, of my labour of free man,
obliged only to the rose and the ear of corn,
which gave me the nourishment to write my verse
and strength to keep opening doors
without permission or audiences or genuflections,
just like that, with no protocols, my way.
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