. No one has yet seen the green lines on my forehead or protruding bones of my thin face, like the edges of some great fish, or the rocks covering the shores of the sea, mountains or steep alpine, I traveled often, when I was on my head of hair a different color. And when I prowl around the habitations of men, during stormy nights, burning eyes, hair whipped by the wind storms, isolated like a stone in the middle of the road, I cover my face faded, with a piece of velvet, black as soot that fills the inside of chimneys: it must not be eye witnesses of the ugliness that the Supreme Being, with a smile of hatred strong, put it on me. Every morning when the sun rises for others, spreading the joy and warmth beneficial in nature, while none of my face does not move, staring at the space filled with darkness, crouching to the bottom of my beloved cave, in a despair that intoxicates me like wine, I bruised my powerful hands my chest to shreds. Yet I feel I’m not rabid! Yet I feel I’m not the only one suffering! Yet I feel that I breathe! As a convict trying his muscles, reflecting on their fate, and soon to mount the scaffold standing on my straw bed, eyes closed, I slowly turned my collar from right to left, from left to right , for hours, I do not fall down dead. From time to time, when my neck can not continue to rotate in one direction, it stops, to get back to rotate in the opposite direction, I look at the horizon suddenly, through the few gaps left by the thick brush that covers the entrance, I see nothing! Nothing … if they are dancing in the countryside with trees and clouds with long lines of birds through the air. This troubles me the blood and brain … Who, on the head, kicks me with an iron bar, like a hammer striking the anvil?