Pablo Esteban Wallerstein Manonellas.
17 de julio de 1986
a
28 de diciembre de 2001.
Pablo amigo, el mundo es más pobre sin ti. Te extraño.
sábado, 21 de noviembre de 2009
Todavía cantamos juntos
Tu presencia colora al mapa de Bellavista, donde viviste y aún vives. Una canción en la radio, Tiny Dancer: todavía la estamos cantando juntos. Miro la propaganda electoral, pensando en tu comentario, en la agudeza que penetra todo el circo.
He shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary him nor the years condemn.
Death is smaller than I thought
Pablo died some years ago. I loved him very much. When he died my love for him Did not vanish or fade away. It stayed just about the same, Only a sadder colour. And I can feel his love For me, Same as it ever was.
Nowadays in good times or bad, I sometimes ask Pablo To walk besides me Or to sit with me So we can talk together Or be silent.
He always comes to me. It's very simple-- Nothing to do with spiritualism Or religion or mumbo-jumbo.
It is imaginary. It is real. It is love.
adaption of a poem by Adrian Mitchell
You were always on my mind
Maybe I didn't treat you Quite as good as I should have. Maybe I didn't love you Quite as often as I could have. Little things I should have Said and done. I just never took the time. You were always on my mind.
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