One morning I was going through the city
repeating continuously “why me?”,
because I had little time to complete
the work my boss had given me.
“Good morning sir” I said that day
to someone who seemed to be a shadow,
wearing a dinner jacket, a black hat,
dark glasses and a bow-tie on his neck.
I really don’t know if he was a man,
might have been a woman in her elegant dress,
“Could you tell me the time, please?” I asked
and then I noticed his little suitcase.
He didn’t look at me, he continued walking,
but suddenly stopped without answering,
and with a quiet voice, like whispering a secret,
he asked me, with a funny accent:
“What is time? I don’t know.”
He seemed to be confused, he might have been a stranger;
I was wondering, I was perplexed
because his question I couldn’t answer.
I was attracted by his warm voice,
“Once I was not so sick and tired…”,
then I sat on an old bench
listening to his story he never told.
“I’ve learnt I’m special, not like the others,
I haven’t got a birthday, nor a family.
I know I have to travel and travel,
And never stop for anything or anyone.
I’m quite spiteful with everyone I meet,
now I’m with you, then you will be alone,
and you won’t know what to do
if I’m not here to help you.
Once I was more calm and patient,
I was present for people who needed me,
now I don’t realize where I’m going,
here and there without an aim.
Children don’t want to wait with me,
they always ask me to be fast in my rush,
grannies don’t want to let me go,
they say it’s too early to leave them alone.
There are lots of people calling me,
to do everything they are looking for me,
but I haven’t got anything for them,
I’m sure I must go away and run.”
He left me there, the strange black man,
then I remembered to check my watch,
but I perceived it was night around me,
‘cause he had taken my day away with him.