Cesar Vallejo

Walking along the corridors of imagination,
free and alone forever, as when he was
and didn't know he was a child,
until forgetting that I'm imagining.
That this heavy flesh, that urinates and sweats,
be resumed in one or two ideas
or comes right back, to that almost nothing
that sees almost nothing in its cloudy sky.
Send me back to the chimpancee or make me only literature,
but do not retain in me the condition of man.
What weighs everything within me
in the outside has no weight.