Oh! If my first name would be Paulo instead of Pablo, and my last name Coelho, and if I would have walked myself El Camino de Santiago, and forgive me, made a killing with its narration.

Since I’m a vulgar and terrenal man, and also I want fame and recognition,

Even when I hide behind this mask,

Even when my last name should have been Neruda,

And fall in love with the Alerces of Isla Negra, my intuition only knows from his verse,

From the other, the imposter,

The one he calls himself Neruda

And naps every afternoon at the same time, dreaming of some trees that reach out to the sky.

Pablo- (Not Paulo, not Neruda, for now, just Pablo)

Thank you for reading and allowing me to entertain you with my musings.