Como Un Pez

Luck is like a fish
that slipped from his hands
like the pretension
to be something that vanished.

He worked slyly
but he had a vocation
to be much more in life
than a Kafkaesque loser.

Poor man, not even his name
can he say with accuracy.
His fate is to suffer,
his path is thorny.
He wanders through the ports
begging for drinks of favor.
He bet his life on a beautiful dream
that was his master and flew away.

Who pities this man?
There is no misfortune that astonishes him.
The carousel spins and spins
but always spins against him.
He wanders through the ports
begging for drinks of favor.
Deliriously drunk, he repeats
that luck is like a fish,
like a fish, like a fish
that slipped from his hands
and sank like lead in the water;
without knowing how it sank in the water
and there it rests with other fates
with many other fates
that slipped like a fish