El Paciente [English translation]

How difficult life is

When uncertainty exists

And how ugly death tastes

When done by habit.

Into my body there arrived

Unexpected visitors,

One stayed with me,

The others left in passing.

Some faces in astonishment

And others more contorted,

The doctor is on his way,

Surely he won't be late.

Hope was still alive,

But blood abandoned me.

I asked about my condition

But nobody answered.

With eyes toward the ceiling

And movement nonexistent

Anxiety and desperation

Along with fear builds up.

How did the events transpire?

He asked the report,

Sir, now I'll answer you,

Just let the blood coagulate.

And how is one to prepare

To leave this life?

If I didn't buy a ticket

And I was already on my way,

I wish I were Catarino

So I could cure myself with saliva.1

Hope remains,

But time has left me.

With calmness per minute,

And serum per second,

Like a caged beast

About to lose its hide.

The doctor is arriving now,

Prepare the patient,

Patience is what I don't have,

I hope you don't mind.

If I don't make it,

I want to ask you one more thing,

Don't bury me, don't cremate me,

In case I don't want to die anymore.

And it's just that in cases like this

I always tend to regret it.

I'm out of paper

It's time to say goodbye.

1. Refers to the song "Catarino y los rurales" by Pesado, in which can be found the lyrics "Los balazos que me den, me los curo con saliva" ("The bullet wounds they give me, I'll cure them with saliva.")