be quiet, she will speak
what she buried many years ago
in the mausoleum of her
heart and soul
she is angry
and she has nobody
she is furious
and she has no place
to dissipate
her anger her fury her hate
her indifference as
shield
was all too weak for
her defense
be quiet,
let her speak her lines
she has learned to live the life
of an actress
let us all listen to her now
let us be sponges to absorb
the waters of her disappointments
we must listen now
let us know what she
will unearth
for if not
she will shatter like a dainty piece of glass
she will dissolve like air to a hazy atmosphere
she will disentangle into broken pieces
she will be lost
the process will be irreversible
and she will be lost forever
look at her eyes filled with anger
do not be deceived
she is not a bomb
she is a treasure wanting to be found
symbols and lines and directions
pointing to an 'x' saying that
she is still here
come, come, let us listen
our dear enriqueta is now singing....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem