By David Alvarado-Archila
It was unexpected:
You told me
I have a tombstone.
Not just any tombstone,
but a decent one.
It is made out
of the finest stuff on Earth,
you said.
It is big enough to cover
a coffin, my ashes
or a life full of memories.
It would embrace me
and make me flourish.
It would hold my name
but maybe
not my bones.
It doesn't matter.
I have a tombstone.
And I can call it
my own.
David Alvarado-Archila, born in Bogotá in 1989, came to Germany in 2022. He holds an
M.A. in Literature from the Universidad de los Andes (Colombia) and a B.A. in Literature
from the Pontificia Universidad Javeriana (Colombia). He has worked as a coordinator of
Spanish courses at the Universidad de los Andes and as a translator of German literature.
He is doing his doctorate in German Philology at the University of Cologne. He also works
as a Spanish lecturer at the University of Bonn and as a Spanish teacher at the VHS in
Cologne.
Hot Pot Magazine 