Poems For Ruben
(Hélène Larrivé)
.My husband is gone, elsewhere, every time, where hehas not to be. Where he doesn?t like to stay. In Bresil, with people he doesn?tlike to see. He likes to remain with people he doesn?t like, it is his pleasureof all days and days, and he hates to remain with person he likes. So he hatesto remain with me, it is normal. And I am alone,every time, and I survive, -sometimes against the current-. Well, it is not tragic,I can live without him, I can swim, too. My daughter left, my son also, I donot have any more family and my parents died. I am alone. Well, this is not tragic,I can live without them. Then, why I cry? My husband left, where he doesn?t want to go, always.And I am alone. It is not important, I can live without him. So did mydaughter, and my son too. It is normal, the children leave their parents whenthey are big and strong. And don?t remain. I can live without them. I knew thatbefore. My parents died and my family bouncered me, thrown me out. It is notserious, I can live alone, and it is better. Then, why I cry sometimes in the night?It is not tragic. I am free. Lonely, andfree. I can sleep the day and work all the time, I can eat at every time and whatI want, and read, and smoke in bed. It is not tragic. I am happy. It just missbeing unhappy, that?s all. It is not tragic. Merry Christmas.
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