My watch has twelve hours,
twelve ages,
in which twelve lives
lived in less than a day,
but there is no memoir,
and the seconds fly so fast
only time remembers me.
I have forgotten
all the infinite seconds
when the world flowered,
created oceans,
and rivers stopped
for a brief moment of reflection.
I think faster than a second,
so I have lived in places
that breathe
as fast as lightning,
sing songs weightless and high,
touch things
that come and go
without the memory of a thought.
I have lived anciently
in a minute.
In an hour
I reached old age,
and in less than half a day
I will have fallen in love
and die,
until
I wake in the night
and ask,
where have I been?
Who are all these people I love?
All these strange countries
I have seen?
And then,
I return to sleep,
a child,
wondering where his mother is.