(1981, lives Trelew)
Arts
poetic poetry comes later. Before
are the eternal companions
eyes of children, extended trips
by men,
, among the shadows,
about their bodies, their stories
other.
And the word-always-will follow:
before rain, go. Living
migrating between more foreign own:
absences,
in the spoils.
Because if it comes, though late
, every word will
only to calm down. Before
thirst.
Earlier
life.
Wrongful Life
aloscuro
drums not hail me.
patriotic speeches will not now.
do not come to live, not to fund my death.
no breeze came to surface that no bronze
push me sponsor me.
knew of silence and deceit, I have known heart
moaning.
compose my songs in their gardens autumn
with blood and sealed.
And then:
agonizing light from rivers, storm water
urgent drinking
heart beats while pushing
-pagan dances dances-
bother
not taste their air my breath.
not reap the earth.
not sleep in peace. Neither will calm your thirst
centuries.
I greet the moon and winter.
eat the soles of your senses.
never asked permission.
The vast territories are
fire that I burn /
that
reborn and no waiting.
New children
The noble face of a new child
erupts as colors, green iris
arches,
refractions of light.
explodes as full
with clever ways willows,
than-happy-
revolt, Galileo.
's face New
a noble child back for the blue barrels in the nap
air and flies into the distance, to people with bakers
winter.
child's face for a new man
restores
warships, wounds, many absences
:
social gaps.
man's face
a child can never shine again, heal pain,
drink spring water, water
smiles tell stories or create
-never.
The new kids are free to walk
face the wind with all the sun that covers
chasing their shadows
towards evening of the glance
adult who will become
only later.
Poem for Resistance
The child that I was not entered
Capital Street
or martyrdom or wet
brillojos-of-sadness.
had his paper boat and once
words hurt your body.
The other boy-boy himself, "
had songs and poems.
rainwater to drink, Mom and Dad
in the storm
arms, caresses.
old man today
looks into the mirror, and laughs. Finish this poem
and tends
a world full of words the child
waiting boat
save him from oblivion.
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