Apuntes del natural

Can you hear the sound of broken glass?

(deep in the corners of my hands)

Yeah, I know you still hear it.

But I don't care.

Until the end -it smells like the bitter end

I'll stand (deep inside, I still remain)

when everything gets lost.

But I don't care.

Ho! So simple, isn´t it?

Lightness enveloped me, then we kissed

and now -here we are!- both of us, getting back.

But I don't care.

What a pity! 'Cause

I don't care anymore.

PD: Beckett tenía razón en eso del distanciamiento a través del idioma...