Somos Levedad

Gray clouds pass
through a murky and fierce sky.
This thick afternoon, leaning on this balcony,
I smoke and consume myself,
in front of the Rainbow Club.
We walked and the summer heat
pushed our amazement
against walls full of graffiti.
We walked and the summer bonfire
devoured our amazement
for insisting on the impossible.
Like you, I walk down this narrow street.
Like you, I need suns to rotate to light me up.
To make shine the good that may exist in the soul.
I smile at the wind because in it
I smell the smoke of the fire.
Because I know that faith is believing
in some god even if they don't exist.
Or exist even if that god
sometimes doesn't believe in you.
In walking, even if today your star doesn't shine.
Like you, I walk on this land that will soon be barren.
Lightness. We are lightness.
Lightness. We are lightness.
Gray clouds pass,
gunshots that cover so many voices,
that drink my torment,
that tear me from this stupor.
I read and calm down, below.
Below the Rainbow Club.
We walked and the summer heat
pushed our amazement
against walls full of graffiti.
We walked and the summer bonfire
devoured our amazement
for insisting on the impossible.
The racket of engines never stops.
Night and day cars pass thundering
in their wake down the avenue.
Below, umbrellas of ghostly lights.
The trees are greasy with exhaust.
And that filtered rain that doesn't clean the city.
Below, in the doorway, veterans
of a life of hardships
drink clinging to the bottle
as if not to fall downhill.
Downhill, we walked, that summer.
Lightness. We are lightness.
Lightness. We are lightness.
Lightness.