Bernardo Villanaueva, Septiembre, 2010

I tremble
I tremble.
I tremble and it is not for less.
Like a green pole like
a dog trembles in the hail.
The man can do nothing for the man and to cry is a vain gesture in a night just as dark

I like to see how the hours pass, so quiet, and sometimes to go down into the mines in search of
all kinds of diversions.
I tremble it is a way of not being Nothing.

Bernardo Villanueva, December, 2009.