When I was little
I remember those Carnival afternoons
Stretching to infinity;
In a too-tight bunny suit
(Symbol of last year's Spring)
I would patiently wait
For the promise of sweets to materialize. Years
Later I was more focused
On the music and the marching bands
Saluting the King of Fools.
That's what Ignacio was;
We told him not to go
Celebrate that Carnival too late
in the season. I sensed them
Rolling in like an incoming storm;
Like the horizon of History:
Mao, Kim II-sun, Souphanouvong, Stalin,
Kérékou, Castro, Duvalier,
But his fear was already rage.
The last time I saw him
He was marching down the street unmasked,
Drum in hand, dancing luminous in white
Towards a bridge covered in hidden sharks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
marching down the street. good poem. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.