Ode to the Passage of Time in Matters of Love & Destiny

i.
We met in the form
of unknown winds,
who when they meet
create such  a movement
in nature that all mortals are
     at the disposition
of our encounter.
believe me, you are
colossal, and in that
we are alike.

ii.
Brilliant fires, desperate cats,
dancers without time, a fucked
shipwreck: in summary,
things I try to imagine
instead of thinking
about you.

iii.
hair made of iron, entrails of
a mannequin, bones of skeletons
forgotten in autumn,
and a drunken reality, that
is what you are
to
me.

iv.
Desolate tides, baseless
premonitions, abysmal thunder,
illnesses created to
pretend that tomorrow
is a new day,
when the truth is that
tomorrow is only
the continuation of today,

and today is when I miss you;
today is when I need you.

v.
child, giant of the occult
poisoned by years of understanding
and deaf ears; puerile touching
that leads us to happiness,
but not perfection,
believe me when i sing and scream
that i love you,
but I need to
forget that you
exist.

child poisoned by
spite, i know your
secrets that only
your fears know, your
terrors,
your ghosts,
your shadows, your
misery.
know me if I say "tomorrow"
and recognize
when I
say "yesterday"

because that is where you live,
and I live in the forgotten.

vi.
Tenderness of God,
imbecile of destiny;
man's dictation.

vii.
Ancient destiny of Villages
converted into cities
of outsiders and
profound extrimists,
guerillas of the forgotten,
yesterday's quotidian children,
customary imbeciles,
and forgetfuls of a pestilential
and difficult truth,

i bless you with a pain
that comes from a tragic century
in a language that is no
longer spoken,
no longer felt, no longer remembered.

O, god! how beautiful the ability to forget.
how beautiful the ability
to make as if nothing happened.
How beautiful tomorrow, full
of possiblities
and absolutions.



Translated from the original Spanish text. 

Observations From a Very Liberal Chauvinist

Profane mother of lustfulness, 

I bless you as if you were 

the ultimate sacred Pagan goddess,

as if you were the last Prostitute

of a long and flaccid

autumn,

as if you were the Sacrificial Virgin

raped at the final moment by those

patriarchal bastards who poison your 

blood in the name 

of 

Systemic Traditionalism,

as if you were the child where 

civilization,

imagination,

the uncertainty of happiness,

and intelligence 

live, 

and tomorrow 

grows in your gorgeous womb,

as if you were the summer of a thousand suns,

and two thousand wisdoms.

Woman, you are the past

and the future

intoxicated with hope. 

Translated from the original Spanish text 

Observacion de un machista muy liberal

Madre profana de la lujuria,

te persigno como si fueses 

la ultima sagrada diosa de los Paganos,

como si fueses la ultima Prostituta

de un otoño 

largo y flacido,

como si fueses la Virgen de Sacrificio

violada al ultimo momento por los 

bastardos patriarcas que envenenan tu 

sangre en el nombre

de la 

Costumbre Sistemica,

como si fueses la criatura en donde vive  

la civilidad

la imaginacion

la incertidumbre de la felicidad

la inteligencia

y el mañana

creciendo en tu vientre hermoso,

como si fueses el verano de mil soles,

y dos mil sabidurias.

Mujer, eres el pasado

y el futuro

embriagada con esperanza.