If for a moment God were to forget that I am rag doll
and granted me a piece of life, I probably wouldn't
say everything that I think; rather, I would think
about everything that I say.
I would value things, not for their worth but for what
they mean.
I would sleep less, dream more, understanding that for
each minute we close our eyes, we lose sixty seconds
of light.
I would walk when others hold back, I would wake when
others sleep, I would listen when others talk.
And how I would enjoy a good chocolate ice cream!
If God were to give me a piece of life, I would dress
simply, throw myself face first into the sun, baring
not only my body but also my soul.
My God, if I had a heart, I would write my hate on
ice, and wait for the sun to show.
Over the stars I would paint with a Van Gogh dream a
Benedetti poem, and a Serrat song would be the
serenade I'd offer to the moon.
I would water roses with my tears, to feel the pain of
their thorns and the red kiss of their petals...
My God, if I had a piece of life... I wouldn't let a
single day pass without telling the people I love that
I love them.
I would convince each woman and each man that they are
my favorites, and I would live in love with love.
I would show men how very wrong they are to think that
they cease to be in love when they grow old, not
knowing that they grow old when they cease to be in
love!
To a child I shall give wings, but I shall let him
learn to fly on his own.
I would teach the old that death does not come with
old age, but with forgetting.
So much have I learned from you, oh men ... I have
learned that everyone wants to live at the top of the
mountain, without knowing that real happiness is in
how it is scaled.
I have learned that when a newborn child first
squeezes his father's finger in his tiny fist, he has
him trapped forever.
I have learned that a man has the right to look down
on another only when he has to help the other get to
his feet.
From you I have learned so many things, but in truth
they won't be of much use, for when I keep them within
this suitcase, unhappily shall I be dying.
GABRIEL GARCIA MARQUEZ