Latido Jondo

If you see me cry, throw me a braid,
don't be a coward and clear the tower, see,
that tied with a string I offer you my respects,
I don't mess with you or put a bell on you,
because crying is for your eyes, not for balls,
if you look at me, Camarones are singing
for seguirillas, beating deep,
like the clapper that is in our hearts,
that doesn't beat, that shouts,
that is fed up with lies and friction,
autumn doesn't want it to stop because of me.

If you see me kicking in the stable,
open the door and wake up, I'm not going to put
my life in your support, nor yours in a frame,
too much puddle for this paper boat,
of kissing... I kiss the moon, to offend you,
I have a desire and ask for the handle of a broom,
from a brave back, with stiff hairs,
to ride it or to stir the silly soup
that I have to eat alone and composed,
and what's left... to the geraniums in your pots,
autumn doesn't want to wither them because of me.

Let the dawn only be dedicated to rotting clotheslines,
let it die from hangover and stars,
through its pipes run poems of what I love most
and I want to lose... I don't want to want.

Deep beat is what my bed wants to have
that has no sleep,
a dull noise, colt of rage and honey
from the skin inwards,
deep beat, deeper than a sea of bitter
from the bottom to the ceiling,
rats on board and throw miles
that on the shore no one can see.

If you hear that ruin is raining in the pantry,
give to the udders, hands never think or see,
there's nothing else to see, no light, no God descending,
nor more potion to drink than your thirst,
of drinking... I drink out of gluttony, not thirst,
I care little if it was one or hundreds
of the tastes you miss,
for my creed I only want one commandment,
and it's that my dry winter lips
keep licking the little pages of a notebook,
autumn doesn't want to strip it because of me.

Let the dawn only be dedicated to rotting clotheslines
if it wants to lose, if it wants to want,

deep beat
is what I want to have