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Life under the bridge

Dawn returns in the morning, the hills do not exist, the shadow is caused by the twenty floors of the twenty buildings that are surrounding the street at dawn and dusk, the sun hardly exists either, only a couple of minutes at noon. Sidewalks on my street were narrow, the street was forked and had several dead ends, all we had was greenery, clean air and a lot of leisure time.


Today, nowadays, there is no longer that of the old neighborhood. The walks are rare, the people do not know each other, the noise and dust prevail, the bicycle is a fossil of yesteryear. That is why I return from time to time a couple of times a year to that street and ride my bicycle, ring the bell and greet the neighbors, because the spirit does not change even if the body changes, things return to their initial state.

And there I find myself in the middle of life and in the middle of the road, between the two sidewalks that move further and further away from each other along the length and width, I am a voice that walks on two wheels, they are a thought in a pedaling.

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La vida bajo el puente


Regresa el alba bajo la mañana, las colinas no existen, la sombra la provoca los veinte pisos de los veinte edificios que están rodeando la calle al amanecer y al anochecer, el sol casi no existe tampoco, solamente un par de minutos al mediodía.Las aceras de mi calle eran angostas, la calle era bifurcada y tenía varios callejones sin salida, lo único que teníamos era verdor, aire limpio y mucho tiempo de ocio.

Hoy en día, en la actualidad, ya no queda eso del viejo barrio. Las caminatas son raras, la gente no se conoce, el ruido y el polvo impera, la bicicleta es un fósil de antaño. Por eso regreso de vez en cuando un par de veces al año a aquella calle y la ando en bicicleta, toco el timbre y saludo a las vecinas, porque el espíritu no cambia aunque cambie el cuerpo, las cosas regresan a su estado de inicio.

Y ahí me encuentro en medio de la vida y en medio de la carretera, entre ambas aceras que se alejan cada vez más una de otra a lo largo y a lo ancho, soy una voz que camina en dos ruedas, son un pensamiento en un pedaleo.








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