Before I could see him twice he crossed The Andes;
later he married in Argentine and never again returned.
I stopped the visiting to grandmother and uncles,
then we would cross in the streets without looking each other.
Already in the school my fellows asked me where was him,
the only time that secretly I start to cry for its absence.
I became another castaway from the sea of infants
looking for a nomad magician or perhaps a Puss in Boots