La Utopía Del Niño de Bronce
Viernes Verde
The Utopia of the Bronze Child
How much eagerness the buried glory feels in a sack
The same was for the sun that soon darkened it.
That island which is the soul is impossible to penetrate
The body also felt that way, not responding
Stretch, reach, embrace facing childbirth
Of a hurricane that destroys, exhausts, stirs up an illusion
How much strength the cold drags when it runs wild
Its flow fell the same way as the pain to the bottom, and never warned
Stretch...
