Discurso Fúnebre

Yesterday they killed a wolf
In front of my house
With its head bowed
On the dreamed sidewalk.

I watched the bodega
Where it fought and slept,
With a glassy pupil
Watching the day go by.

And the children from its world
Spoke in a very low voice
About its gaze.

For the rest of the earth
There lay a dead dog,
A dog that in a few hours
Would be decomposed.

The sidewalk had to be cleaned
Of that dark stain.
For the rest of the earth
A dead dog is trash.

But the children played
And returned to its side
Always silent.

Wolf, I do remember you
Lying on the road
With the sun healing your battered back.
The night will find you
Fighting with your enemies.

Wolf, I do remember you,
I also knew
Where, how, and when you slept your dream.
For those matters
I haven't grown up much yet.

How could I not remember you
If you've been there since my childhood
In a different but the same landscape,
If it happened to all of us once

How could I not remember you
If your mystery is happier
Than many things we have to tell
At the cost of a scar,
Like a hot iron
Leaving the memory burning
Without the nobility of your death
And without a kiss with better luck
Than that of cursing.