• El silencio es de mármol. El silencio es la respuesta de todas las preguntas.

  • ¿Existe alguna tierra donde los latidos son los creadores del propio corazón?

  • Será que el infinito es mucho más pequeño si se mira de cerca.

  • Es una tarde roja, amarilla, celeste y esto es cualquier lugar.

  • Que no crezca jamás en mis entrañas esa calma aparente llamada escepticismo.

  • Doy por cierta la sed de infinitud que me espolea.

Blessed Joy

They confuse you with others, joy:
ingenuousness, simplicity,
candor
innocence.

They underestimate you with diminutives
substitute for happiness
eternally impoverished sister of euphoria.

They seem not to remember the icy routine
when demands are drained of blood
and dread imprisons like a precipice.

Don’t pick up the gauntlet, I beg of you,
forget the challenge that ignorance casts out.
Don’t abandon us in the middle of some ocean,
without your light, joy,
the one with outstretched hands
the one who makes the soul a liveable place.

Don’t heed the sounds from the trenches,
the vain rhetoric of the opportunists.
You are the most unique distillate of liberty,
the spontaneous orgasm of the spirit.

Well-found joy
the purest of tastes
the pleasing one
you who live and reign in our cleansed marrow
now and in the dawn of every now
stay with us.

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