(incluído en / included in "Inéditos" -poemario / poems)
DOS
de CUATRO
El
día del acabose créanme
no
habrá hombre que la compostura guarde ni
erudito
que no sacrifique
alguno
de sus libros para la hoguera
alimentar,
por cierto
los
héroes de un día en dicho día olvidados
serán
anónimos transeúntes;
padres,
madres, hijos, sangre
la
misma sangre ha de sangrar,
el
día del acabose no habrá piedra
que
no se ría del Hombre
ni
vieja rama ni raíz
que
no palmotee las espaldas
en
señal de duelo a los un día
devoradores
de la Tierra.
TWO OF FOUR
The day of the last straw, believe me
there´ll be no man that keep himself together, neither
scholar that won´t sacrifice
some of his books for the fire
allow to grow, by the way
those once heroes, on that day, long forgotten
shall be the anonymous transients;
fathers, mothers, sons, blood
the same blood, will be bleed.
The day of the last straw, it won´t exist a stone
that won´t laugh, in the face of men
neither old branch or root
that won´t clap on the backs
showing their grieve, to those who once
were the devourers of the Earth.
there´ll be no man that keep himself together, neither
scholar that won´t sacrifice
some of his books for the fire
allow to grow, by the way
those once heroes, on that day, long forgotten
shall be the anonymous transients;
fathers, mothers, sons, blood
the same blood, will be bleed.
The day of the last straw, it won´t exist a stone
that won´t laugh, in the face of men
neither old branch or root
that won´t clap on the backs
showing their grieve, to those who once
were the devourers of the Earth.
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