Éste, nuestro poema

                                                                   Y si mañana
                                                                   todo cambiara
                                                                   tú lavaras mis heridas
                                                                   y yo las tuyas curara
                                                                   y la luna nos mirara asombrada
                                                                   y si un día fueras mi verdadero amor,
                                                                   noble, amante, entregado, compañero
                                                                   y si mi amor te alcanzara
                                                                   cubriendo tu todo
                                                                   y tu todo fuera yo
                                                                   mi hombro, mi boca, mi abrazo
                                                                   y si tu quisieras ser mi remanso,
                                                                   acurrucandome en tus brazos
                                                                   y si viniera el tiempo de compartir,
                                                                   lo que nos queda.        
                                                                   si el cielo nos viera pasear de la mano,
                                                                   nuestro amor presente destino truncado
                                                                   y si mañana nada ni nadie te frenara,
                                                                   la cómplice estrella te iluminara,
                                                                   y a mi te entregaras
                                                                   y si a partir de hoy fuera siempre,
                                                                   éste, nuestro poema.
                                                                                    

                                                                       Gladys Goldszteyn.