IX.



Sangra el cielo esta noche,
y al fragor de su roja espalda asoma
una mota; sombra de verdad eterna.

Aflora en truenos un cansado grito
que a nadie ensordece. Vuela así el tiempo,
sus pasos enmudecen. Nuestra raza,
una duda en sus eléctricos dedos.

Sangra el cielo esta noche; con nosotros
no se conforma, y mis faltas relucen
al batir de sus lágrimas.

Bañan las nubes, en sabia tutela,
el pecado de mis límites. Alba
que confronta, con su tenaz goteo,
un crepúsculo en las minas humanas.

A ciegas, sin luz propia, somos títere
bajo el yugo de su hemorragia. Sangra
hoy. Porqué no mañana.





2 comentarios:

Anónimo dijo...

Loneliness. The whole conviction of my life. Wolfe couldn’t be more right. Like a river it meanders, splits into separate channels, wanders between rocks and beneath the knobbly roots of blighted swamp trees, their branches pulled low by crimson Spanish moss- all beneath the vaulted darkness of living rock. They will call out to you shrilly but, hey, it’s just you and me, kid. Never beseech, I muse. Never snuff the air with unexpected hunger. You’re gingerly crafting what to say, and this weakens the very thought of yourself. Are you quivering, kid? Hey, between you and me, that’s the way it’s meant to be.

Though the sky may bleed tonight…


Neil
“There’s nothing funny about a clown in the moonlight”


P.S. Still craving for more?






PERSONNEL OFFICER
(thinks a moment)
How's your driving record?

TRAVIS
Clean. Real clean.
(pause, thin smile)
As clean as my conscience.

Ferran Vega dijo...

Had been difficult to understand your text. But beyond the language, beyond the words, comprehension is possible if there is intention for it.

Your atypical (and mysterious) message makes me think about the power of lyrics. Maybe language is not an impediment in order that anybody, in the distance, could understand me. Maybe an interiour image, like a sky bleeding, can travel on every obstacle and, eventually, to touch other people.

I just don't know. Thanks por posting this, whoever you are.

Yes, I quiver. And of course I'm still craving for more. In fact I do both things all the time.