The man I am, nobody can see.
A forest of faces chases me
to make up the tale of my life.
I've always lived
...
I have known shadows and no individuals,
liabilities animals of imaginary life,
with their idiot suits and knots of neurons
attached like birds on a virtual tree.
...
La bondad y el horror estuvieron en mí;
pude imitar la santidad de los elefantes,
la cordura existencial de los gatos
y la cándida alegria de un delfín,
...
I'm over reading the silent
that covers this 2020's reality:
The crowned pest has arrived,
it came to dispute our illusory kingdom.
...
When my uncle fell into poverty
he sold his books
and at the closing lids of his tale
he got lighten the soul
...
We have been abandoned by gods
or they are inside us for our destruction?
We stop crying the innocent deaths:
Who mourns for my indians?
...
I hear the falling rain
and I fell as if the night
it flooding me
with all sorrows of unknown people,
...
Mi tío llegó a la muerte
con un ruido de botellas quebradas
sobre la frágil proa de su alma,
así por fin se liberó su cuerpo
...
Next to my friend, the Autumn,
I walk on the rust of time
that piles up as fallen leaves on the footpath,
and I leave behind
...