Ojalá Tengas Suerte

I am already less than life and more than ashes,
I am on that shore of lost things,
I have all the future but it remains behind me,
No one will survey me, I am already less than nothing.

Forgive the bitterness, life is so unfair
and sometimes living in this gloom is tiring.
If I think of an escape, it's always through the window
precisely because of that, because I have no wings.

I hope you're lucky
and the angel of death
takes pity and comes to see you
with a cool head and a warm heart.

I hope you're lucky
and the angel of death
takes pity and comes to see you
and releases the ties that bind you to life
and tomorrow they find this empty bed.

That white handkerchief, the waving hand,
the train in the distance: everything is farewells.
The nights of vigil, the bitten sheets,
the early mornings know what I would do if I could.

To dream that I dream, I ask for eternal sleep
everything on the other side will be better than this.
One dies a little until dying completely.
What refined being imagined this hell.