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a chance to dance (the last dance) - part two

my lackluster translation of Thalia's song into English would have it mean:

to whom should it concern??

people talk about me
they point with their fingers
they talk behind my back
but why should i care?

yes, i'm different
but i stand alone with
no one to boss me around.

i know they criticize me,
i bet they hate me
their envy eats at them
my life burdens them

why is it?
it's not my fault
that my fortune irks them so.

my destiny is what i
decide and chose it to be
for me.

to whom should it concern what i do?
to whom should it concern what i say?
that's how i am, and how i will proceed (being)
i will never change

maybe it is my fault, since
i do not follow the norm
but, it is too late
to change now.
i stand firm in my convictions
and reinforce my position.

my destiny is what i
decide and chose it to be
for me.

to whom should it concern what i do?
to whom should it concern what i say?
that's how i am, and how i will proceed (being)
i will never change

that is who i am, and that is who i will be.

*

Of course, without the hip house beat my translation does not do it justice, but please believe me when I profess it to be a great song—to listen to, to dance to, to be inspired by.

Anyway, while bouncing in my seat to it a few weeks ago as I was driving, I took Thalia's sacred words to be my anthem of the moment and dreamt about being at a book reading. I fantasized that at the close of the hour I'd suddenly say to the audience "and now I'd like to invite you all to join me and dance," which is when I'd press the button on the portable CD player I'd brought along and play A Quien Le Importa, taking the hand of the first person who got up to dare cash in on the offer…

The little dream continued and I found myself at the book singing table when someone would come up to me with a genuine gleam in her eye and say "Your book was so inspirational to me." At that point, I would instantaneously begin to cry with joy, actual tears would pour down (just as they were actually doing during my car ride), and I would stand up to embrace her. I would express why I was so touched by saying, "I've waited practically all my life for someone to say that to me about my writing. Thank you."

And then I'd reach into my pocket and take out $40 and hand it to her saying, "please take this and buy yourself a nice bottle of wine or two this evening, you deserve it for making my day with your simple, yet grand gift of expressing such sincere inspiration to me."

*

It so happens that another gracious reader wrote the following yesterday:
"Let me know if and when you are published. I'll be the first on line to buy and meet you at the book signing."

Dear dear reader should that ever come to truly be, please remind me of my little dream conveyed here humbly to you.

end part two



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