SORDINA
Sordid world,
in the mute hush,
in death.
The world fades away,
life vanishes.
In the degraded chaos,
a world that is sad,
a cliff to jump from.
Where ears are deaf,
where eyes are blind,
where no one sees the end.
In the initial war,
where everything explodes,
without smell,
with pain,
in the deafened hush.
At the final precipice,
one step from the final leap,
in the madness of dead life.
Where everything leads to nothing,
where everything is degradation,
it is the foretold war.
A sordid world,
moving in a muted hush,
moving toward death.
The world slips away,
life thins into nothing.
In the wreckage of chaos,
a world grown weary,
a cliff waiting for the fall.
Where ears no longer hear,
where eyes refuse to see,
where no one recognizes the end.
In the first war,
where everything
bursts apart, scentless, aching,
lost in a deafened hush.
At the final edge,
one step from the last leap,
in the madness of a life already dead.
Where everything leads to nothing,
where everything decays,
it is the war long foretold.
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SORDINA
Sórdido mundo,
en la sordina,
en la muerte.
El mundo se va,
se esfuma la vida.
En el caos degradado,
un mundo que es triste,
un precipicio para saltar.
Donde los oídos son sordos,
donde los ojos son ciegos,
donde nadie ve el final.
En la guerra inicial,
donde todo salta,
sin olor, con dolor,
en la sordina sorda.
En el precipicio final,
a un paso del salto final,
en la locura de la vida muerta.
Donde todo conduce a la nada,
donde todo es degradación,
es la guerra anunciada.