The paper

poem by Ruth Salles

In the old days,
a lifetime was written
on a palm leaf,
in a papyrus shell or wax tablet.
in monasteries,
there was the parchment,
who made parchment from the skin of the lamb.

But later,
thanks to the rags of the rags,
washed, kneaded, pressed, drained,
it was finally written, after so much wandering,
the life of the old man and the child,
of the sage and the warrior,
of the lady and the knight,
of the maiden and the maiden,
in the paper.

The angels said Amen,
and so in the sky
was also recorded, on an invisible paper,
the story to be loved, felt, thought,
to be lived and represented
in faithful performance,
here on earth, here on the ground,
for each one of you here.

“Let the palm leaf be dug
the thin line of my destiny.
That in the soft wax is engraved
deep
my love for everyone
That on the sheepskin parchment
be careful and firm my script.
And that in the rags of the rags
my mistakes, my fears
are washed, drained, re-prepared,
forwarded,
is that I,
after so much walking,
old and child,
sage and warrior,
lady or knight,
maiden or maiden,
do what I can,
fulfill my ROLE.”

***