martes, 24 de enero de 2017

Andante danés

Un ser andante
roza las calles solitarias
murallas altas y desoladas
ventanas con luces y sombras
El frio refresca la mente lucida
la sed se calma espumosa
el frio helado golpea el rostro
baja sin prisa pero con goce
hacia el pecho y se acoge dentro del ser
¡Nadie alrededor!
¡Que fantástica velada!
Solo las luces allá arriba son testigos
de la desnudez del alma
que desfila sin pudor
por las calles no transitadas.

El final del camino se anuncia
con aquel banco en solitario
que contempla el brillo del reflejo lunar
sobre el fiordo cuasi-polar
A lo lejos la ciudad festeja
tan insignificante su existencia
pero cuan significante su contemplación
en este momento sin definición.

¡Oh todopoderoso! me entrego a tu disposición
para el viaje sin retorno
dame la mano, te extiendo la mía
y si no la tomas que mas da
ya deje el suelo terrenal.

En el cielo oscuro puedo proyectar
los recuerdos que me inundan
y que desbordan el cuerpo material
a través del orifico ocular
Pero estas lágrimas no hacen daño
son piadosas y curan por dentro
luego me abandonan y se evaporan
como buscando llegar al cielo.

El ultimo sorbo calma la sed espumosa
Mis manos secan el rostro sin lágrimas
Una sonrisa le sigue a un suspiro sincero
y se levanta un hombre recién nacido
camino hacia la ciudad que festeja.

lunes, 23 de enero de 2017

Fantasy touches ground

You gave me access to the fantasy of your lips,
your body, your skin, your hair, yourself
I left ground and we dance into the melody of desires,
love, thirst, joy, life
My will was disposed to merge into the fantasy
The gaps were filled with good intentions
Perfection was far away, but perfection is not allowed to mortals
I needed to want you, more than you were really aware of
Some kind of selfishness asked almost begging for your love
Despite mine was not there yet.

Into the dancing dream, some pause were made
The distance was required by any of the sides
Then it was for you a game
where you shot at me hurting my soul
with little effort, it was a game for you after all
My wounds don’t cure with the time
They keep there gnawing inside
The water you provided me afterwards,
attempting to quench my thirst,
seemed to leak through the holes
but I still could survive sipping you before you are gone.

My sixth sense warned me of the inexistent future
and I accepted it, the last kiss was the last taste of you
the last look seemed to say goodbye
the last hold was the last I felt your hands
I am proud of my sixth sense, but this time
I have been wishing it was wrong.