Sunday, April 9, 2017
Saturday, March 18, 2017
Argentina lugar extraño
La tierra que yo nací
Se extraña con Caricias de alambre de púas
Con Alas mojadas libres
La Pobreza inconsolable
El lugar donde la pasta base es la Materialización de sueños locos y
La anestesia del hambre
Esa Argentina de piso polvoroso y niños pidiendo
Perros, miseria y gurices jugando
Todos revueltos entre risas y polvadera
Tardes de magdalena bandoneón y mate
Donde está mi casa?
El parral y la abuela cebando mates
Donde los picos de pato no toman mate
Será la lluvia, que me trae la nostalgia
de olor a paredes húmedas
Y los bandoneones a flor de piel
Donde está mi viejo, su piano y sus historias
El café, la plaza, y los amigos
Me los traje, pero el olor de mañana sanrafaelina no los sigue
La gran manzana me disfraza pero no me engaña
El álamo y el algarrobo son mis pies
Los rascacielos nunca me sentaron bien
Los mil y un zapatos acá no te lucen como en la plaza del pueblo
Me dijo el viejo y me cerró la boca
Andar miles de caminos para entender que el lugar de uno es el lugar de la partida.
Tan lejos tenía que llegar, para saber adónde quería estar.
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Apple without trust
Fear on the train
Fear on the streets
Around the corner has become too far
Persecution smell haunting houses
The sweat on the foreheads getting dry and cold
Humans no more
Only papers will determine what people are
Colors will say how much you are worthy
Stay inside, knowledge will be your judge
Shame of being polyglot
The land of hope
The land of trust
Mighty lady with a torch
Illuminate us in this dark
Open your lips and let us hear your voice
Protect our tired and our poor
We are in need of you
Mother of Exiles, do not forget your children
Protect us all from the ones who try to strip your clothes
Let us grow in your womb
Protect the ones who are cold and hungry
Give them the same love that you has given us
Nurture us with your unconditional love of free speech
Remind us that we are better than what we are now
With blind eyes, we will follow you
Do not abandon us in this moment of despair
Let us see the light through your torch
Illuminate us.
The true fire
The mind of the pyromaniac or the fireman.
They asked me if I have ever regretted what I wanted.
Regret, Relief, the light, the heat,
The relief of the flames,
Fire, a part of my being
What would I be without the fire?
The pleasure of the fire is so intense
I reach nirvana as the fire devours everything
I want to be a firefighter
I could always be next to the fire
The pleasure of contemplating it
But the pleasure is not the same
To ignite is not the same as extinguish
I set on fire the hidden secrets of the mind
How can I dull these consuming flames
Who comes to aid the quench of this burning mind
The fire comes and devours everything
The good, the bad, now I am empty
Nothing I am after the fire
I am everything while I am burning.
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