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@ Connie
2025-05-18 19:15:23
Ballad of Bad Temper
There are days when I feel a dislike for myself,
for you, for everything insist on believing,
and I find myself supportively cretinous,
apt to let resentment sway within me and nothing seem like a good omen.
Days when I open the newspaper with my heart in my mouth
as if I were truly hoping my name
would appear in the obituaries,
followed by the list of relatives and friends
and all the indocile staff under my command.
There are days that aren't even dark
when I lose track of my grief
and sort through the crossed words
with a rage made for another occasion,
let's say, for example, for sleepless nights.
Days when one knows that long ago was good,
Meh perhaps not so long ago the moon rose
clean as after a perfumed soap
and that was true melancholy
and not this unhealthy, sweet boredom.
Well, this ballad is just to warn you
that you shouldn't take me into account in those few days.
— Mario Benedetti, “Love, women and Life”
https://image.nostr.build/29b5c358b13c14f2c9d577b597bf48627d8528ee13b298b11f589e92c672c5ea.jpg