Oh, Que Será

Oh, what will be, what will be?
That are sighing in the alcoves
That are whispering in verses and rhymes
That are arranging in the darkness of the dens
That walks in the minds, walks in the mouths
That are lighting candles in the alleys
That are talking loudly in the bars
That shout in the markets, that surely
Is in nature, what will be
What is not certain, and never will be
What is not fixable, and never will be
What has no size

Oh, what will be, what will be?
That lives in the ideas of lovers
That sing the most delirious poets
That the intoxicated prophets swear
That is in the pilgrimages of the mutilated
That is in the most unhappy fantasies
Dreamed in the morning by the prostitutes
Thought by the bandits, the helpless
In every sense, what will be?
That has no decency, and never will
That has no censorship, and never will
That makes no sense

Oh, what will be, what will be?
That all warnings will not prevent
Because all laughter will defy
Because all bells will ring
Because all anthems will consecrate
And all children will run wild
And all destinies will meet
And the same eternal father who never went there
Upon seeing that hell, will bless it
That has no government, and never will
That has no shame, and never will
What has no judgment