A La Piramide Del Sol

With the inexhaustible wake
of the one who has always been the path,
your composure, who knew
how to find it in the vibrant distance of humidity
although man has passed by
time has remained in memory
that entwines the facts with your face
do not be more remote
if you precede the memories of your age.

With the fresh sobriety of yesteryear
and reflection of the soul
your heavy burden of rock
has sworn nostalgia years ago
with so much yesterday in your ancestral
and dusty walls
that at night whisper murmurs to peace
when the field is silent
your lament carries the wind where it goes.

'Say old and sad colossus
the secrets of silence
when the eternal wind carries
the sighs of the perpetual
condemned to solitudes
when it seeks among your crevices
now empty and exiles
and forgotten by the sentence of the shiny and new
I invoke you and your past
to be the flower of my verse
for the night and the darkness,
for the star and the path'.

It was when time
lowered singing
and tearing the moons
to the sun of epics
and threw legends
as if sowing
corn in seeds and
eras in stages
linking feats
to the celestial belt
from death to life
from relief to plagues,
you saw man
you saw death
you looked at the time of the celestial belt, you looked...