E 'any day, I get bored.
I want to do something new.
Why not try a new emotion?
I undress, I dress in ragged clothes
an old hat, sunglasses,
a white stick, gloves with holes,
a large sign, "Do charity ".
I go in a selected
near the most beautiful hotel and wait for the passage of those who moved to see a young blind
who reaches out from the stick on the ground.
My eyes are half closed,
but they explore the various faces of passers-by.
Borbotto subdued foreign words.
Who spends listening to me but without understanding,
some curious, some doubtful.
No one thinks to give me something.
I wonder why.
their ragged clothes, the conspicuous sign yet not enough.
What else does it take to move you people?
But then someone decides
slowly and I put a few coins in his hand
but a few, but just little bit.
So I think, what is left
a poor blind man, dying of hunger?
sad, I give up.
I give up and I went to visit a friend.
I vent to him telling the story.
The friend listens to me and smiles at the end.
"You'd make a perfect blind, eyewear, stick,
hat, coat, sign, fine.
But this fragrance is much too strong,
who believe a blind woman who knows thrush?
You have to adapt to things in the world,
the laws of the rich who are merciless:
a blind man to be true does not stink, but neither issue
perfume so.
A blind man can only eat, sleep ... and maybe ....
die! "
E.
December, 1991
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