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Yet to be born

Almafuerte

Por Nacer

Por nacer, en este suelo.
Hice un pacto yo con Dios
o tal vez fue con el diablo,
no lo sé.
Sólo recuerdo el mandato decidor,
de no callar lo que tanto se calló.

Después, parece no importarle.
A quién, parece no sentir
Tal vez, porque guardando el pan.
Se cree dueño del buen vivir.

Pobre de él.
El orejero cipayo del patrón.
De quien decreto o palazo manda
sean ley.
Por mantener a resguardo el botín,
de los que matan con hambre
a la nación.

Donde yo, soñando estoy morir.
Como quién soñando está crecer

Después, parece no importarle.
A quien, parece no sentir.
Tal vez, prefiere olvidar,
por bien de su propio existir.

Yet to be born

Yet to be born, on this ground.
I made a pact with God
or maybe it was with the devil,
I don't know.
I just remember the decisive command,
to not silence what was silenced so much.

Then, it seems not to matter.
To whom, it seems not to feel
Maybe because by hoarding bread.
One believes to be the owner of good living.

Poor him.
The lackey listener of the boss.
Of whom decree or blow commands
be law.
To keep safe the loot,
of those who kill with hunger
the nation.

Where I, dreaming, am dying.
Like someone dreaming is growing.

Then, it seems not to matter.
To whom, it seems not to feel.
Maybe, he prefers to forget,
for the sake of his own existence.

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