When I’m seventy
I don’t know where I’ll be,
but it would be with you.
When you are seventy,
we’ll go by seventy seven
but it would be with you.
When I’m seventy,
world would be less
dependent on me
but let it be with you.
If I achieve this, I’ll give you
thousands of stars to watch
and the best flowers from your garden.
When I’m seventy, if I’m here,
what went on with the world?
So be it, I’ll be singing;
because I won’t handle anything,
I won’t wish nothing and won’t have nothing to keep.
Just music, tears
and human laughter
which, thankful, I’ve learned by your side.
Curled up I’ll listen you,
I’ll see you on backlight and
I’ll distinguish, little pearls
and the yarn which bond us.
Will they be blue? Will they be violet?
Will they be golden?
From Saturn, from Orion,
from Sirius, the Moon,
and even beyond, it will be a pleasure
see you on sunlight from so many suns.
Seventy suns. Seventy petals.
Seventy moons. To celebrate
I’ll give you seventy roses, because
I’m been born another year more.
If I can stay on your bosom,
abandoned, I promise I’ll take you on
on Mars.
Don’t be afraid,
when I’m seventy,
and take this for sure,
I’ll keep asking, I’ll keep curious,
I’ll keep unpredictable.
Clumsy seventies of mine,
sit down side by side,
with a mate on my hand, you
complaining about
my talking to stars, troglodytes and benveteos.
Give me the gourd, you’ll complain,
seventy thousand times, infinitely.
It’s warming up, you’ll whisper,
even when I’m seventy.
Curled up, will you hear me?
Would you distinguish me on backlight?
Would you see if bluish, violet,
or any kind of golden, are the yarn and
tiny drops which link us?
If you don’t remember well,
when you are seventy.
If I don’t remember well,
when I’m seventy,
we’ll go by the Cave, and,
the Immemorial Knights,
will allow us to get in.
We’ll read from history
and forgetfulness.
The past, the future, and till then.
I’m seventy, there will be not hurry;
with another emphasis,
we’ll see The Book of Life.
And here, on Jupiter,
Mercury, I promise you,
you’ll have sweets, mead,
so many delicacies,
that you won’t regret,
seventy by my side.
For each galaxy, with so many suns
kids, the eye on my forehead will enjoy
see you on backlight, meanwhile
we dance together many, so many seventies.
Ricardo Daniel González
For Isabel. Many Thanks!
![Lost in time, by Joyce Huis.](/images/2018/03/29/lost-in-time-joyce-huis.jpg"Lost in time, by Joyce Huis") Crédito de la imagen: Lost in time, by Joyce Huis.