A ALFONSINA BESAR

Nodriza, bajame la lampara

escribio Storni sobre su cama

mastectomia de siete armas

las brechas de la cabeza humana

los siete oyos y las mareas

poesia en si es hermana

cabe de duda y de inocencia

de puros respiros se demuestra

poesia total poesia

pero y por que no sufrio la muerte

como cualquier heroe debera?

Nadie sabe del misterio sacar

su contenido su forma su dar

es por cada quien sobrevivirla!

The Terrible Shepherd

The Terrible Shepherd leads his sheep to Terror

The byways of Death, Disease, Destruction’s Turpor

Delivers Might to Mayhem and Power to  War

Meanwhile the Universe is Peaceful  he Wants.

To worsen the Mishaps of Nations and People

Abandon the Lost and Devise by Cruel Riddles

The Answer to their Worries Mocked and Mistaken

They Bleat to Graze He returns with a Press Release.

Where they might have had Grass, he has Plundered to Waste

Where soon they need Bandages, he hands them Sharp Blades

When they Thirst for Water or Shade, he looks Away

But first in line for their Wool, he grows Wide Awake.

He sleeps with the comfort of Future Threshing Sake

Of Limitless furnish of Great Desecration

The Potential of Immortality Forsakes

He is the Terrible Shepherd of his own Name.

The Bullet That Killed Marti

The Bullet, the Bullet that killed Marti,

Dario is pained, the movement Contained

Ideals as Symbols alone would Pervade.

The Princess grew Bluer than the Sky.

Azul in its Systematic Default

The Promethean Wings grew to Asphalt.

The Falcon could not her the Falconer

Mere Anarchy would’ve been Better.

Yet, that is the Argument in Ether

No One is free from Descent or Heaven

One may argue lesser argue Greater

The Bullet that killed Marti would’ve Known

Had it not Grown to its own Destruction.

Which is as a Martyr slayed a Monster.

EHECATL GALEANO (URUGUAY)

--El Clasico Venas de Sufrir, Eduardo Galeano Uruguay

Educacion desde el Cumbre Como

Piramide que se Desnude

Sus Misteriosos revelan Misterio

Letra Zintonizada de Plomo

De Minas de Herencias sin Nombre

Que no se Han Llamado por no Ser

El Universo sin Pantalla Azul

Donde el Poeton Respira Vocales

Qual Metafora hay por Riquezas

Riquezas tan Espectaculares

Que Arriban a Pobreza y Guerra

Piececitos del Nino Cegado

Las Joyas Sufrientes Sufrieron Mas

Que una Eternidad las Malas

Prelude for Calafia

When Byzantium roles in, Xanadu Foils 
The Chronicles of Ulster Hover Near 
IF Death by their Mandate, have none more Peace. 
Castro will find and settle his Toils.
As History would Redeem him, shake my Spear.
I really don't want to be the Poet 
Who Wrote It since I'm a Classical Note,
But who ends up in Bed with the Spires?
She who Wrote IT or Translated it, Too.
Join My Captain, Tennyson, Blake, Burns 
We will overtake Mediums of Truth.
As so it was written so it will Be.
Calafia Rides for Five Centuries 
Unburned of her Feathers, Huntington Prized.