Little joys that give meaning to my life, and that I would like to share:

A window to the fields,
Fresh air in my face,
The smell of bread,
The aroma of coffee in the house.

Walking barefoot through the meadows,
The dog,
A shower.

The guitar, that sounds or is played,
That good book lying on the sofa patiently
Being surprised,
Write down with a pencil
The smell of the wooden pencil.

Writing, planting,
Travelling, singing,
As Bertolt Brecht said.
Play and conjugate.

Observing the seasons,
And the roses.

And the bell tower
In the distance
Sings the times.

Making siesta, when possible,
Cooing, and love that is made.

The silence between the songs of the wind.
And the setting sun,
Clouds at sunset.
And the moon.

And, at night,
Putting the children in bed and tell
That improvised tale
We could never miss.

And before going to bed,
Look up
And say goodbye to the stars,
Take a breath
And evoke
What was worth today
And what should be done tomorrow.


I wish you all a placid week.


Alex Rovira