Only they remain 43 days

Experiences of a king

I would like to explain all the thoughts that were running inside of me during the short but intense hours of my brief royal life.

How helpless I felt, dear boy, in front of your hospital bed! Why could not my black skin reflect what my heart was feeling? Being a king, even if it is just for a day, means a long preparation, and I became a king like a child who plays. What a big mistake! Don't think too much about it, His Majesty, look at that girl: what a clear sight! What will I say? How will I say it? I do not want to break her hope, but I want to make her reflect, love more intensively, work harder and share more often. I cannot talk to her about sacrifice, she would be scared, she would feel it as a nightmare. How hard is to communicate with children! How people change when we grow up! And what about that other child? He's staring at me smiling, but in his eyes I can see a bit of sadness. What may happen to him? It is said that the Three Wise Men know everything. I suppose I do not have the makings of king.

Music, lights, applauses… I cheer up, I wake up, I want to understand, I wave my hand, I give out sweets, I feel important. I reflect. Vanity destroys men. So it can also destroy kings easier. Cameras focus on me, I have to smile. Don't think about anything. Live this moment. Enjoy this wonderful dream. A huge crowd acclaim me. My imagination goes back to Rome, Nero, the amphitheatre, Julius Caesar passing through the triumphal arches of his streets.

My mind makes an ethereal way to Bethlehem. Did I adore baby Jesus? I completely forgot. Why, little Jesus, why men and kings are so ungrateful, so absentminded? Is It my selfishness that does not let me see? I am blind! So much honour, so many acclaims! Did I really believe I am a true king? How stupid I am! I take advantage of my disguise, of the fact that nobody recognizes me, and I do and say things that kings must never say or do. I feel euphoric. I feel full of joy, as I never felt before. Will I be able to convey this joy to children? Or maybe they have already conveyed it to me.

Fragment of a text published in 1987 by Magí Puig Gubern.

 

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