Somos Levedad

Gray clouds cross
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 wonder
against walls full of graffiti.
We walked and the summer blaze
devoured our wonder
for insisting on the impossible.
Like you, I walk down this narrow street.
Like you, I need suns to rotate to illuminate me.
To make shine whatever good may be in the soul.
I smile to 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 cross,
shots 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 wonder
against walls full of graffiti.
We walked and the summer blaze
devoured our wonder
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.
They are the greasy trees of monoxide.
And that filtered rain that doesn't clean the city.
Below, in the doorway, veterans
of a life of hardships
sleep clinging to the bottle
to avoid falling downhill.
Downhill, we walked, that summer.
Lightness. We are lightness.
Lightness. We are lightness.
Lightness.