Cita con Ángeles

From the most remote times, guardian angels fly always jealous of their vows against abuses and excesses
Next to infant cribs, next to the sad dying, they say that the gentle beings with wings from another world watch over

When this angel soars the sky, there is nothing like it
The end of its hurried flight is the sentence of a heretic
Do not get distracted or delay, everything is now untimely
It heads towards the field of flowers where the bonfire awaits Bruno

An angel launches from the height, free fall that gives chills
The order from its leadership is to descend to Dos Ríos
It is the 19th and also May, mountain of foam and mother sierra, when another angel on horseback falls with the poor of the earth

They say that on the edge of dawn a compassionate angel passed in front of the moon, flying over the olive trees
And they say that with bad intent his fan was shot, just at the time when in Spain Federico was being murdered

A beautiful archangel flutters next to a large iron bird
He tries to make a man see it to ward off a hundred thousand exiles
But the archangel chokes and a blue wing is injured and the black bird opens its mouth as they pass through Hiroshima

Leaving a luminous trail over Memphis, Tennessee, a winged being flew in frenzy
He was dressing in mourning, the cherub was crying and counting the minutes of God and Martin Luther King

The angel passes under a bridge, then circles a skyscraper
Central Park, full of people, he doesn't realize his flight
How much utopia will be broken and how much imagination when at the door of the Dakota bullets bring down John

September still howls its chilling double toll everything happens on the same day thanks to a similar hatred
And the same angel who in Chile saw the president being bombed, sees the two towers with their thousands falling unforgettable

Desperate, the cherubs take to the skies of the earth and with their cloud pencils they paint farewells to wars
The world fills the balconies and exclaims at last: This is my fight, but the lord of the cannons does not look at the sky nor listen to it

Poor urgent angels who never come to save us
Are they incompetent or is there no way to help us?
To avoid them more pain and bills from the psychoanalyst, let's be a tad better and much less selfish