I've grown accustomed

(Esta es la traducción que ha hecho amablemente el Dr. Robert Gurney a mi texto. Ahora es un poema. Ha ganado en belleza. Gracias, Bob).

I’ve grown accustomed   

I’ve grown accustomed

to waking up to the red curtains

in Ivy’s bedroom

and to welcoming little Itto

when he jumps,

as he so often does,

into my bed.

I have grown accustomed

to the life they have forged together

and to sharing it, 

joyfully,

with them both.

  

I have grown accustomed

to Ivy’s smile,

and to her beautiful face

and to Tania’s eyes

in which one can see

the sea and the sky.

I have grown accustomed

to everyday life in Barcelona,

to taking Itto for walks,

to the afternoons,

to lunch

and to waiting for Tania

to get back home from work,

always cheerful,

always immaculate,

always undaunted.

I have grown accustomed

to living with the energy

that emanates from the strength

that they have generated together,

to feeling part

of an unbreakable bond.

I have grown accustomed

to taking Ivy to Uni,

to picking her up,

to seeing her smile,

make plans,

and look at her mobile

as if seeing the future in it.

I have become accustomed

and habit has become strength,

power,

wide-open spaces,

clear blue skies,

surrender.

I want to imagine

That they will always be like that,

my daughters,

forever,

united and happy,

singing

and telling each other

what sort of day they have had,

watching TV together,

reading, going for walks,

enjoying life in a Barcelona

that, somehow, is mine, too, now.

I can’t break the habit.  It’s too hard.

I am writing this

from the plane in Istanbul.

I want to go back to that life,

to the days, afternoons and nights

with my two beautiful girls …

and with Itto.

I love them.