Dolores
Zahara
Pains
Dear friend, I can't stay silent
I've known you since I was a child
When my grandmother cooked and
Remembered your green eyes
Although I no longer knew your name
With my hand on the Bible, I tell you
You are freer than all the unbearable and arrogant men
Able to bury your joy
Saying that your poetry
Was not up to par and that you weren't worth it
Poorly loved and suffering
You learned that love
Was the one waiting at home
The one who didn't ask, the one who offered devotion
In exchange for stabs
The one who died and killed for love
How could you say that you weren't that?
That there was no coin in the world
Neither false nor true
That could pay for what you gave
That took away all your sadness
You who had the voice of lost women
And at the same time the voice of your beloved Spain
Cutting through the wind in your wake
You were always misunderstood
As if that pain, that pain
Was the only possible way
To love
