El Equipaje Del Destierro

You ask me how was the harassment that I received.
You stick your tongue in my head, in my thoughts, in my something.

And well: I let you assume that I left my town,
That I fled breaking the harsh threshold like a terrified puma.
But I assure you that they haven't taken anything from me
Since they won't be able to separate me from that land.

So, how are they going to steal my volcano with its crater?
Divert the mouth of the river from my soul with its estuary?
Embed in the landscape the tree with its branches?
Kill me at the temple the rough louse with its nit?
Burn my book and its cover with a usual match?
Join the dagger with my pain and its sorrow?
Water down my boat and its boot in a storm?
Defeat my spell and its incantation?

Vibrate the string of my solfeggio
With its solfège.

You ask me how was the harassment that I received.
You put your eye to browse through the station of my memory.

And well: I admit that in the end they won the battle,
That the outcome of the war is still unknown.
But I confess that I didn't lose a grain of pollen
Since they won't be able to separate me from that land.

How are they going to exhaust my case with their hunt?
Thin out my communal sack with their looting?
Harness my universal song from cricket to its shackle?
Empty my Araucanian and its Araucaria of content?
Dig with funeral pleasure my grave with its tomb?
Halt the turbulence of my saga with its gesture?
The clash of my expectants with their expectation?

The baggage of exile is my suitcase of smoke,
But we know that without fire there will be no smoke.