When I was born, a crooked angel, br the kind who live in shadows, br said: Go, Carlos! Be gauche in life. br br The houses spy the men br chasing after women. br Perhaps if the afternoon were blue br there wouldn’t be so many desires. br br The tram passes by full of legs: br white black yellow legs. br Why so many legs, God, my heart asks. br But my eyes br never ask a thing. br br The man behind the moustache br is serious, simple, and strong. br Almost never talks. br Has a few, close friends, br that man behind the glasses and the moustache. br br Lord, why did you abandon me br if you knew I wasn’t God? br if you knew I was weak. br br World world vast globe br if my name were Job br it would be a rhyme, not a solution. br World world vast globe br vaster still is my heart. br br I ought not tell you, br but this moon br but this congac br gives us heartache like the devil.