En Las Encías

I'll be like a knife in the throat of an interrupted love
My voice is a lung as renegade as dishwater
My gums ring, destiny like a muzzled seguiriya
Eduardo take me to a dirty song, I don't want to see the sea

I'll be a piece of rotten and resilient moon
The silent owner of a hot tongue
I'll be the present body that knows the future in my pants
May the air on the avenue forever enraged
Bring me in the saddlebags what could have been
May the tasteless mud eat the heart in Berriozar
What remains of me

I crash against the swift calendar waiting for another cloud
The rosary doesn't add up if I decide not to die
The storm will reach the knee the afternoon you start crying for me
Beware of Peter Pan, my little bell, don't have to watch over him

I'll be the wandering grave of a foul-smelling verse
That didn't find the meaning of not wanting to love you
That drank the rivers and ended up in your corner

Perhaps the poem in heat that risked its teeth
Bite you like never before barking as always
And return from weariness burning its ship on the armchair

I'll be the shamelessness of a certain Judas who denies you thirty times and then more
Who has swallowed such a raw candle that he can't swallow it
He searched in the heights with shovel and pickaxe
He searched for Jonah's whale
I went to unearth Federico to never return

I'll be a piece of rotten and resilient moon
The silent owner of a hot tongue
I'll be the present body that tucked the future in my pants
May the air on the avenue forever enraged
Bring me in the saddlebags what could have been
May the tasteless mud eat the heart in Berriozar
What remains of me