Rafael Marcelo Arteaga Poems

Hidden, hidden, there they were! The collector of skulls, whose love is to drink the wine of important people from them; the observer of the stars with his ceremonial mantles; the weapons dealer amid their slaves, whose sickly bodies don't make shadows, even with the torches´ most intense glare.

From the interior of the ships, they hurry to the exit, mercenaries of mended faces (debts of love and playing cards) , with the roots of a certain tree in their mouths to mitigate the fatigue and the rigors of the cold winds –evidence that they give their all in battle in exchange for good money. The executioner's apprentice, who makes merits for a better salary in order to buy his fiancé for two oxen and a load of salt. The corporal, feared by his enemies and too weak before his superiors, with a scorpion on his chest flees from his pregnant mother. The tamer of vipers whose daughters wait in another town –unable to marry due to their lack of wealth.
...

Naked in front of the fire I open the book. Corpses are not getting tired of life, like us; neither do they need to believe in these words, as me in them.
...