Canción a Maiakovski
El día era grande
De su estatura
Un presagio de tiempos nuevos
Una antesala de la fortuna
Su canto grave
Rompía los credos
Y cantaba canciones duras
Cantaba golpes, cantaba el fuego
Era el tiempo de los estrenos
El comienzo del porvenir
Era el néctar contra el veneno
La tierra en celo era el fusil
Era el canto definitivo
Y la vida cantó en su luz
La canción del desposeído
El canto bueno del buen cantor
Arrebataba
La poesía
De los cuellos para el encaje
Y untaba en mauser la canturreaba
Rompía las sedas y los ropajes
Y teñidas de rebeldía
Rojas banderas le hacían de paje
Era el tiempo de los estrenos
El comienzo del porvenir
Era el néctar contra el veneno
La tierra en celo era el fusil
Era el canto definitivo
Y la tierra cantó en su voz
La canción del desposeído
El canto bueno del buen cantor
Song to Maiakovski
The day was grand
In his stature
A premonition of new times
A prelude to fortune
His deep song
Broke the creeds
And sang harsh songs
He sang blows, he sang fire
It was the time of premieres
The beginning of the future
It was the nectar against the poison
The earth in heat was the rifle
It was the definitive song
And life sang in his light
The song of the dispossessed
The good song of the good singer
He snatched
The poetry
From the necks for the lace
And smeared it in mauser he hummed
He broke the silks and the garments
And dyed in rebellion
Red flags served as his page
It was the time of premieres
The beginning of the future
It was the nectar against the poison
The earth in heat was the rifle
It was the definitive song
And the earth sang in his voice
The song of the dispossessed
The good song of the good singer