El Viejo Matias

The rain and the wind were two brothers
running furiously along the embankment
and on a dark, wet, and dirty bench
he adjusted his gray uniform

Old Man Matias sleeps anywhere
a wandering ghost touches his skin
but when it rains his remains seek
the scrap metal station in Paso del Rey

He's scary to children and not-so-children
his sad figure crossing the platform
because no one has seen his tired eyes
the burden of oblivion trembling in his feet

Sometimes he mumbles incoherent things
talks about war, imitates the cannon
and other times he sees a child in his eyes
and cradles his brown bag in his arms

When trains full of workers arrive
he gets happy, his eyes shine
sparrow of the afternoon wants to talk to everyone
and then he stays alone on the platform

He stays looking at the empty tracks
the fading light, the train that passed
and then he walks away murmuring things
Old Man Matias, ogre of the place