Desde un tétrico hospital
donde se hallaba internado,
casi agónico y rodeado
de un silencio sepulcral,
con su ternura habitual,
la que siempre demostró,
quizá con esfuerzo o no
desde su lecho sombrío,
un tísico amigo mío
esta carta me escribió.
"Querido amigo quisiera,
que al recibir la presente,
te halles bien, y que la suerte
te acompañe por doquiera.
Por mi parte, mal pudiera
decirte que estoy mejor,
si al contrario, en mi dolor,
postrado en mi lecho abjecto
ya soy un pobre esqueleto
que a mi mismo me da horror.
"La carta es para decirte
que si podés algún día,
vení a hacerme compañía
vos que tanto me quisiste;
estoy tan solo y tan triste
que lloro sin contenerme,
ya nadie suele quererme,
todos se muestran impíos,
de tantos amigos míos
ninguno ha venido a verme.
"Hoy yo te doy la razón
pues veo en mi soledad,
que esa llamada amistad
es tan sólo una ilusión.
Cuando uno está en condición
tiene amigos a granel.
pero si el destino cruel
hacia un abismo nos tira,
vemos que todo es mentira
y que no hay amigo fiel.
"Bueno, aquí ya me despido,
y al poner punto final
recibe un abrazo leal
de quien siempre te ha querido.
A tu mamá, que no olvido,
también mis recuerdos dale,
mucha devoción mostrale
y de cariños colmala...
Vos que la tenés cuidala.
¡Si supieras cuánto vale!"
Llegó el domingo, y ansioso
por aquel amigo leal,
penetré en el hospital
angustiado y pesaroso,
me dirigí silencioso
al lugar donde sabía
que su lecho encontraría.
mas...¡ay!... no bien lo encontré,
asombrado me quedé
al ver la cama vacía.
The Puerto Rican
Diaspora (book) Migrating and building communities in the U.S.A.
From Hawai'i in 1900 to New England—the Puerto Rican diaspora grows in the
States...more than in Puerto Rico itself.
Don Jibaro: "I own this book. It makes me churn.
Don Jíbaro's Note:
A few years ago I was playing my guitar for my wife at
home. I came upon this old tango my Dad used to quote...
La Cama Vacía" (The Empty Bed). I remembered the lyrics
and went on to sing it for her as I played. Half way
through the song I began to weep. I didn't stop playing,
and my singing became a cry of sadness.
With tears in my
eyes, I stopped and I told my wife that the words were
too sad, so sad that I had the image flashing in my head
while my heart was pounding in my chest. I was "living"
the story... the empty bed... I was so brokenhearted
that I had to translate into English and share it in my
website. The sadness lies in the fact that the words of
the song are true... so moving that you can't avoid
"living" the story. DJ
The Empty Bed Brokenhearted Translation by Don Jibaro
rom
a sad and eerie hospital where he was being treated, a friend of mine wrote me a
letter. Almost in agony and surrounded by a sepulchrous silence, with the
habitual tenderness which he always displayed... perhaps with painful effort,
perhaps not; but from his dark bed and consumed by a deteriorating pulmonary
tuberculosis, he writes...
"My dear friend, I wish that as you receive this
letter, you'd be fine and that good fortune would be with you wherever you
go. As for me, I could mistakenly tell you that I'm better each day but on
the contrary, in my pain... laying on this dark bed, I'm just a poor
skeleton at horror by my own sight.
The letter is to convey that if you can, maybe someday... you, who always
loved me so much, would come keep me company. I'm so lonely and sad that I
cry almost non-stop. Nobody loves me anymore; everyone turned out to be
heartless and from so many friends that I once had, none has bothered to
come see me.
Today I agree with that which I see... that in my solitude, that which is
called friendship is nothing but an illusion. When you're doing well there
are more friends than you'd ever need. But if the cruel destiny throws you
into an abyss, we see that it was all a lie, and there's no such thing as a
true friend.
Well, let me say farewell and place a period here. Receive a faithful hug
from he who has always loved you dearly. And to your mom, whom I can never
forget, give my best regards, show her much devotion and smother her with
love. You, who have a mother... take care of her. You don't know how
precious that is."
Well,
come Sunday and anxious to see my faithful old
friend,
I go into the hospital saddened and
burdened. I walked into the room where he was supposed
to be... but alas! I was astonished to find the bed... e m p t y .
Meanwhile.... Stay
informed: Subscribe to Don Jíbaro's NO SPAM
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The Empty Bed
rom
a sad and eerie hospital where he was being treated, a friend of mine wrote me a
letter. Almost in agony and surrounded by a sepulchrous silence, with the
habitual tenderness which he always displayed... perhaps with painful effort,
perhaps not; but from his dark bed and consumed by a deteriorating pulmonary
tuberculosis, he writes...
