Ballad of the Reflection

Ever since I found this song I have felt that the one in the mirror is me. I’ve been there, and sometimes I’m still behind it, untouchable, unreachable, just looking how others come and go but never stay. I can make lives shine while they are in front of me, but then, I remain in this jail…… on the other side of the mirror, alone.

I have dreams and illusions I wish I could accomplish, but I’m not to be named after a while…..everything vanishes like bubbles.

Believe me, I have jumped out of this cold glass sometimes, and I’ve danced, and sung, loved…..and cried. Going out this reflection may give me five minutes of heaven and a whole life of sorrow. Sometimes I don’t know if I should stay or dare to run away. At least here, pain can’t reach me; tears never last to the following day.

Yes, I know it’s sad, but I know what it feels cleaning the mirror to get the best shines of the people before they leave and then just stay there longing for their coming back. It never happens and if it does, would it be the same?

(Modified from an e-mail I wrote some weeks ago)

I inhabit the interior of the mirror
where those who compose and pose for it will pause the time..
Immersed in my work, I clean the other side,
and this, my better cloth, what a brightness it can make.

From a pale old gold, to a sun whip,
from an discreet opaque to the later storm cloud
to play at will as bee in the garden
of the moon of my endless mirror.

I keep in the enchanted room my main window
to a world that nobody comes to touch.
Country of the illusions, of the daydream and perhaps,
kingdoms that no longer are yearned to be named.

I know about the substances to make the dreams that will always be.
And I know the words that will wake them up.
I know to return over my steps looking after what is gone
or to fly there where I will never see.

Moon of my sad nights, moon of my vanity,
moon of my life, of intimate clarity,
device of the chance, mirror of my heart,
you taught me to see me from your prison.

I inhabit the interior of the mirror
where those who compose and pose for it will pause the time..
I know of my work, the one of playing in the time,
and my best cloth, what a brightness it knows how to do.