lunes, 26 de agosto de 2013

The tragedy

The tragedy

All is well; there is the stench of pain
A distant stink of domination
Fuses into an easy image
Of one reprehensibly over another.

Growing the impulse on vanished vitality
Known stories ending in forgetfulness
So much wanted seeming possible in a promissory way
Remembering the “present” but appearing the “future”.

With flowers and entire grasslands
Without delay because life does not wait
Those shouting penance somewhere around
Those with worn out clothes and blinded soul.

Just one day, or only one life
Intellect plays to judge
Cat lover drowning puppies
Because he never found anybody to give them to.

From one person to another
From other people’s dream to one that is ours
From something purchased to one inherited
Face to face each particle of faith.

Who lives the moments and who creates them?
The incomprehensible ceremony of offering
So that dawn is suffocating in anguish
Asking for opportunities that once obtained will be despised.

But, it would not be useful to warn him
That then, perhaps it would be too late
Since the things he would be destined to find
Would be like salt walls surrounding his steps.

When for being intelligent, intelligence renounces
And leaves the way open for someone who wants to follow
Initiating battles and sowing seeds in some hearts
Even though only the foundation is starting.

Tears of someone who is surprised in a comedy
And rather than discarding a terrible human disguise
He takes on the nearest mask and tries it again
Pretending to be concerned by the feeling of his solitary observer.