Witness facing the Pantheon
where the empty coffins of impostors
are carried to posterity.
The grateful homeland .
I ,the voice of the shadows
puffing on a ciggie
between my yellowed teeth
in the pale early morning light .
Offered to the blade .
Can you hear me, you powerful ones ?
Voice rising from the ruins,
claiming the thousand heads of the hydra !
Prophet of the hyena order ,
waving the monstrance of disaster
on the herd being led to euthanasia...
Is all that remains .
farce of a drama in which even hell
no longer frightens the hobos
in evening dress ...
deaf people who confused the music
of the spheres with crazy rap
for suburban rats ...
I thought this ending would be heroic
like just an ancient tragedy !
All is only antics .
The end is a mute sewer mouth
crying out for love
from the cash box of illusions ...
How handsome are you Mr president !
Singing your praises to the heavens
I await your priceless cheese !
How beautiful are you,first lady ,
mechanical Barbie doll !
Your happy devotees
wallowing in the stench of liberty !
So many crimes commited
in your holy name ...
Jester! chuck my soul to passerby
it\'s worth no more than a dog\'s bowl...
Rebellion doesn\'t bring happiness
but that is makes it so wonderful...
The little father of the crowds
gazes tenderly at his lethal double
as he prunes the rose bushes in his garden .
Poet,my gentle comrade ,fallen in Teruel
for two pesetas of oblivion
thrown to the mule of Guernica ...
Poor fool ,who in the smoking ruins
of the desecrated Eden ,
tears your hands on nettles .
I am the void that falls asleep in the rubble.
Compos-mentis lying in the compost ...