The Old Man
I see friendly piles of white ice cream clouds and the Havana drifting away
I taste the salt less tuna I use to keep strong
I hear the other fisherman mock my 85 days without a fish
I say aloud "I wish the boy was here"
I feel the panic and weak from tired
I like the way the fish moves and his beauty
I fear I may fall asleep when the fish jumps and return without him
I wish the boy was here and the fish was dead
I admire the fish, but I just kill him
I need to keep strong and keep calm
Salao (Unlucky)