Postal de Guerra
María Elena Walsh
War Postcard
A tissue paper
Floats in the smoke
Carried by the current
Bridge spilled over
Tears
The afternoon leans
Gunpowder and mist
Ashes rain down
Silently
Tears
Oh! When will they return
The flower to the branch
And the smell of bread
Tears, tears, tears
Burnt trees
Pale rags
Shipwreck in the puddle
A sandal sinks
Tears
Ghostly steps
Fleeing in pieces
Shadows and reeds
A bunch of mothers
Tears
Oh! When will they return
The flower to the branch
And the smell of bread
Tears, tears, tears
