La Aurora de Nueva York
Alejandro Sanz
The Dawn of New York
The dawn of New York has
four columns of mud
and a hurricane of black doves
splashing in the rotten waters.
The dawn arrives and no one receives it in their mouth
there is no tomorrow or possible hope.
Sometimes coins in furious swarms
drill and devour abandoned children.
The dawn of New York moans
through the immense staircases
searching among the edges
for lilies of drawn anguish.
The dawn of New York has
four columns of mud
and a hurricane of black doves
splashing in the rotten waters.
The first ones to come out understand with their bones
that there will be no paradise or love torn apart;
they know they are going to the mud of numbers and laws,
to games without art, to fruitless sweats.
The dawn of New York moans
through the immense staircases
searching among the edges
for lilies of drawn anguish.
The dawn of New York has
four columns of mud
and a hurricane of black doves
splashing in the rotten waters.
The light is buried under chains and noises
in an indecent challenge of rootless science.
In the neighborhoods there are people who hesitate sleepless
as if just emerged from a shipwreck of blood.
The dawn of New York moans
through the immense staircases...
The dawn of New York has
four columns of mud...
