"Lóbrego"
Quise morir rápido ayer…
Desangrarme a cataratas… y dejar vacío mi ser.
Quise morir pronto hoy también,
Caerme en pedazos como la noche ante el alba.
Últimamente no sé qué hacer…
¿La muerte? Quiero descansar como aquellos también;
Los que dieron la vida por una idea,
Lo que dieron la vida por una mujer y por la poesía.
No pude, e intente hundirme, en esos que llaman placeres…
Y no encontré, algo más que sexo o licores;
Que ciertamente son analgésicos de dolores…
Pero, aquel dolor no se quitaba con pasiones,
Ni con colores…
Últimamente he intentado morir…
¿Por qué? Aun mi alma no lo sabe.
Entonces, quise morir, y no lamentar lo que pensaste…
Que era yo, el menos indicado… y el único hombre.
¡Al cual jamás amaste!
"Gloomy"
I wanted to die fast yesterday...
Bleed to cataracts... and leave my being empty.
I wanted to die soon today too,
Fall to pieces like the night before dawn.
Lately I don't know what to do...
Death? I want to rest like those too;
Those who gave their lives for an idea,
What they gave their lives for a woman and for poetry.
I couldn't, and I tried to sink into what they call pleasures...
And I didn't find anything more than sex or liquor;
Which are certainly pain relievers...
But, that pain was not removed with passions,
Not with colors...
Lately I've been trying to die...
Why? Even my soul does not know.
So, I wanted to die, and not regret what you thought...
That I was the least indicated… and the only man.
Which you never loved!
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