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El obrero


Sigue trabajando ante el horno encendido;
es un hombre viejo, escaso de estatura,
y sumiso, por la forma en que acostumbra
a entornar sus párpados enrojecidos.

Los demás trabajadores ya descansan,
él, en cambio, todavía sigue en vela;
se consagra entero a moldear la bala
que me arrancará algún día de esta Tierra.

Ha acabado: su mirada cobra aliento;
regresa; la luna brilla; y a estas horas,
sola en la ancha cama, cálida y con sueño,
todavía está esperándolo su esposa.

Esa bala que ha fundido silbará
por encima de la espuma gris del Dvina;
esa bala que ha fundido se hundirá
en mi pecho, porque vino a por mi vida.

Yo, con la melancolía de la muerte,
caeré, y veré fluir mi vida entera:
a raudales correrá mi sangre ardiente
por la hierba medio seca y polvorienta.

Y por mis amargos y fugaces días,
Dios entonces me dará la paga justa:
quien lo ha obrado, en su camisa desteñida,
es un hombre viejo, escaso de estatura.

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Me and You

Yes I know, me and you - we aren't alike, / I have come from far away soils, / And it's not the guitar I like, / It's the sound of violent tonsils. / / Its not for the buildings or roads / Not for the dresses or fashion - / I spell out my poems for dragons, / For the clouds, ...


Today I can see that your look is especially sad / And your arms are especially fragile, as if made of chaff. / Listen, my dear: far away, by the shores of Lake Chad, / Roams the exquisite giraffe. / / It was granted the gift of proportion, voluptuous grace, / And its skin is adorned wi...

Sixth Sense

Fine the wine that loves us, / Good bread baked for our sakes / And the women who torment and tease / Yet please us and in the end let us take them. / / But what do we do with the red / Hue of sunset that lets the sky grow cold / With blue in a still, strange serenity? / What to do ...

The Streetcar That Lost Its Way

While walking down a strange street / I suddenly heard the cawing of crows, / Distant thunder, and the tones of a lute - / Here came a streetcar flying past. / / How I managed to leap to its step / Is beyond me - even in the bright / Daylight it spewed behind itself / In the atmosph...


So this is all of life! Whirling, singing. / Oceans, metropolises, deserts, / A desultory reflection / Of what is lost forever. / / A flame rages, trumpets trumpet, / And chesnut-colored horses race, / Then the agitating lips / Of happiness, it seems repeat. / / And sorrow and ...

A Baby Elephant

Right now my love for you is a baby elephant / Born in Berlin or in Paris, / And treading with its cushioned feet / Around the zoo director's house. / / Do not offer it French pastries, / Do not offer it cabbage heads, / It can eat only sections of tangerines, / Or lumps of sugar an...