AVALANCHE

Well I stepped into an avalanche, it covered up my soul; when I am not this hunchback that you see, I sleep beneath the golden hill. You who wish to conquer pain, you must learn, learn to serve me well. You strike my side by accident as you go down for your gold. The cripple here that you clothe and feed is neither starved nor cold; he does not ask for your company, not at the centre, the centre of the world. When I am on a pedestal, you did not raise me there. Your laws do not compel me to kneel grotesque and bare. I myself am the pedestal for this ugly hump at which you stare. You who wish to conquer pain, you must learn what makes me kind; the crumbs of love that you offer me, they're the crumbs I've left behind. Your pain is no credential here, it's just the shadow, shadow of my wound. I have begun to long for you, I who have no greed; I have begun to ask for you, I who have no need. You say you've gone away from me, but I can feel you when you breathe. Do not dress in those rags for me, I know you are not poor; you don't love me quite so fiercely now when you know that you are not sure, it is your turn, beloved, it is your flesh that I wear.

DEVO AO COHEN UMA AUDIÇÃO (ACREDITO QUE AQUI CAIBA A PALAVRA OITIVA, PORQUE É A ÚNICA TESTEMUNHA VIVA DE TUDO POR QUE PASSO, DESDE 1999 - QUANDO O CONHECI EM VIAGEM A HASTINGS, NUM SOL GÉLIDO, AS PRAIAS DE PEDRINHAS, A RUSSA COM QUEM DIVIDIA O BELICHE NUM EMBARAÇO QUASE NIPÔNICO, AS MÃOS À BOCA, DURANTE AS MUITAS RISADAS...) DIÁRIA, CAUTELOSA E AFETADA. COMENTEI 'AVALANCHE' COM UM AMIGO, E HOJE A ESCUTO. O QUE TENHO EM SEGUIDA É 'SING ANOTHER SONG, BOYS', QUE ME FERE NA PARTE FINAL, QUANDO ELE GRITA NUMA ANGÚSTIA CENSURÁVEL.

TUDO DO COHEN ME CASTIGA O CORAÇÃO, E TUDO DO COHEN ME CONFERE VISCO AO SANGUE, ME TORNA UM DIA QUE SEJA, DEZ METROS QUE SEJAM, MAIS VULNERÁVEL.