A Daniel, Un Chico de La Guerra

"To me, eighteen
passed me by,
introducing opinions,
intentions and songs.
Like all the boys,
with a closed fist
and in the open doors
the future waiting.

Yours, abruptly
was untied
and you disappeared into the mist
in the sea of horror.
Your dreams ran aground... Daniel
in the crowd and the mud.
Death was the flag...
and life a miracle.

Mine was different... Daniel...
mine was nothing.
I don't have that shadow...
that wanders in your gaze.

My battle was the risk
of a hidden machete
and my foxhole,
love and forgetfulness.
My rifle, the graffiti
on empty walls
and dying for the Fatherland,
a flowery speech.

Your excuse for being a man:
something more than the reason
for the beard and the demeanor
and going out with friends,
was becoming a resident... Daniel
of rain and cold;
to assume the shipwreck
with all five senses.

Mine was different... Daniel...
mine was nothing.
I don't have that shadow...
that wanders in your gaze.

My matter was a matter
of a worried mother
who didn't want it to be too late
to return home.
From Sunday to Sunday
she combed my wings,
without walking every Thursday
demanding her soul.

Yours, however,
spent until dawn
the scarce news
from the distant islands.
Any hint... Daniel
a rumor that would jump,
no matter how small...
was already hope.

Mine was different... Daniel...
mine was nothing.
I don't have that shadow...
that wanders in your gaze.

Time will bring
the inexorable amnesia.
There will be many condemnations
and few responsible ones.
They will say it was necessary,
they will say, "inevitable",
and in the end as always
God will be blamed.

History needs
in its shop windows,
to hide the background
of so much nonsense.
It's not your defeat... Daniel
it doesn't fit in your luggage,
Perhaps the seagulls...
again in the air?

Mine was different... Daniel...
mine was nothing.
I don't have that shadow...
that wanders in your gaze."