I Often Whisper to Myself
I often whisper to myself
that one must live only with memories
when only a few days remain.
What has passed
is as if it had never been.
The past is like a noose
tightening the mouth of my mind,
draining its strength to face the present.
The past is nothing but smoke
for those who have never lived.
What I have already seen
no longer counts.
The past and the future
are not reality, but illusions of the moment.
I must free myself from time
and live the present, for there is no other
time
except this magical instant.
