Lídia Pastor

 

Still he was physical, alive, motive

of joy and expansion and taught me 

to dance on the toecaps of giant's shoes,

My father was the hero who filled 

my hours and days, my Goliath, 

Don Quixote, I was an infanta 

and he was a priest, 

and I laughed and danced 

and nothing molested me, 

nothing worried me, 

there were no shadows, 

no invincible monsters, 

no heartbreaks, no punishable sins, 

a kind of Fred Astaire, 

and I was whoever I wanted,

He said to me: daughter, 

always be fearless, 

dance and sing with life 

and never be intimidated, 

you are a brave one, 

and engraved in my mind 

it remained, this is what I am,

He left and I stayed, 

but I don't know how to deny it, 

he was my king of 

an already defeated monarchy 

who taught me to be people.