Words Bringing Freedom

Chapter One

To Pain

I didn't explore the unknown
To now feel the pain
That chased me before in the dark
I feel its bite, I know its color.
I came to the light
But I still have a shadow
That follows me in the darkness that seduces her
And what the heart remembers
And tell me something still hurts
And the things that don't kill, moi.
It's in the darkest night
That the tears of pain flow
And not tears of self-pity
That others don't understand and pretend
Realize who you are
And there's a hoarse scream inside the reverse
That doesn't say everything that should already be said
But the darkness speaks: shut up.
I omit.

Villages

There are villages that have the capacity
To stop time
While people
catch your bus
And give you a ride on your perspectives
and beliefs, preferably in the lives of others.
While evil saying went out of fashion and importance
It's the only clothes they have
And in their litany, it's the only bread they'll sell.

In the morning and at dusk
The shrill voices come with disdain
On full, dirty and old buses
that take you and take you away from reality
And they are the ones who tell tales about bluebeards,
Undead from an invented east,
Of poor people who eat bread that the devil has kneaded.

Row against a tide
From a whirlwind of mentalities
From small media, where people don't read
And suffered from the realities
Of lost dreams and stolen futures
And in the dreams that were destroyed
Create your void to fill with
Pain, loneliness, bitterness, poverty and misery
And that makes people bitter and sad.
Children

Children suffer in times of peace
Children suffer in times of war
If someone tells me there is no injustice
So who created the real sense of justice?

Alone, they pay the price for existing
Trauma exists
Pain exists at any age
Society wanted to prohibit your freedom
Because as we grow up we become envious
Of the true invocation of innocence.

Alone, they suffer abandonment in silence.
In silence they suffer all evils
That are created by criminals
The pain is unbearable but they love who you are
Now you love materialism and hate everyone
Because selfishness and envy are greater
Than to see that a child is born without love.
A child sees all colors
When you only see the gray
And if you only see the gray,
Let a child see the colors for you
So that your heart doesn't get lost
In the vain reality of the void so cold and dark.
Even in pain, the smile of a child
It's a light that's softer than the sun.
Let hope
invade you and the child in you creates the design
Of the dream you lost with destiny.

Angels

There are angels who don't need wings
In this land that plows and sows
The vineyards of chaos and futile things
Brought by misery and poverty.

Not only in material poverty
But in the spirit, when there are angels
Who suffer for our banal
That slowly kills innocent beings.

A world we were born into
We are soaked in sins
And crimes committed by others
And we lost the wings of innocence
We have lost our true consciousness.

There are angels who fly too soon
When the world only cares
With materialism in a dockless port
And there is no place for dreams, only guilt.
Grey day

It's a gray day,
The city buildings,
They cry for their heap,
Made by men without truth,
Corrupt and kill completely,
The real meaning of life.

The most perfect crime ever committed,
Like the conjugation of verbs,
From the more than perfect past tense,
Made with almost no errors.
They killed the real meaning of life.
They killed the real sense of humanity.

Futile and useless

Futile and useless have outlined paths
That involves coming up with unfounded pretexts
To have a simple superfluous conflict
And they go beyond the measure of the simplest complex
Whether of superiority or inferiority
Wearing out for no reason at all, the truth.

These include politicians and criminals
That in their purest Nature feel pleasure
In bringing the pettiest things and are dubious beings.
Your nature is inconsistent
in abstract square roots.

As guaranteed as ensuring that the impossible is possible
In the promises of bad payers and campaigns
Who offer more pens and promises
at any level
On the poor man's level, if your ties are worth more than a house.

Eyes

What words for?
If your eyes say it all?
You told me you loved
My heart and in my world
I learned to see you
With eyes to see
You taught me well to read you.
I have a lot to praise you for.
Why dream
If you are a reality?

I learned that you are a queen to worship,
You gave me the purpose to fight for the truth
For your pure and rare love.
You are a sweater
For my little soul,
The cold can be colder
But you are Spring
With your very knowledgeable words,
That make new fruits grow
Our future together.

But I feel empty
In your absence
But you taught me
To be resistant.
Because you love me.
I learned to save
Your warmth in my heart
I learned from you to believe
I kept your kisses in one hand.
I keep them so they don't fly away,
Waiting for the cycles of life
Don't take us
Away from my care and joy.

Another East

I breathe the city,
With a smell of the future,
But sin for reality,
Of the difficulties of beggars.
And the wet grass in the garden,
It is the lung of city life.
As if nothing were, anyway,
That lack of adrenaline of mine,
To feel the sweet touch
Of adventure shaking me.

I feel people's cold,
That go empty and gray,
It hurts just thinking about it, I get discouraged
In how much city poverty,
Not just in a city in the other east.

Bucharest is harsh and cold.
Belgrade suffers for the gray,
And scars from a war.

I don't pretend

I'm tired of acting
And see no action
It's like throwing pebbles
And stagnant water and not acting
It doesn't make ripples.
This is what I see in those who give up
And he crosses his arms, it's sad.

Someone tell me to have strength
When my strength could carry the world
And I'm not Atlas who was condemned
Carrying the world forever.

I'm one of those who fight the most
For the things I believe
And I stopped feeling sorry
For those who crossed their arm over the other arm
The one that trapped me in pessimism.

I chose to be free
But I'm not free
I chose to be king of myself
But I was given a fate
That I cry, sing and mourn
And yet I feel the contempt
From the society that wanted me small.

My grave will be shallow
But it won't take away my honor
Having fought against the impossible
In a battle against the useless and invisible being.

To someone dictator with their arms crossed
Who wanted to oppress my hope
There will be a hero before the unloved
Who will bring joy and will be the king of perseverance.

CHAPTER TWO

Never give up

Giving up slowly undressed
And in your shame
The resistant will was born
Like firewood
That feeds a living fire
That burns dismay.

In a gentle touch
Like a leaf
What touches lightly
The dew, and look
Your wings of freedom
Being born resistant
On an April morning
Crossing your arms
It became a useless option
And it turns out that there are spaces in the arms
For a new opportunity
Freedom
Happiness
Reality
Immortal ability
To be someone who believes
May the positive things
They are the best for those who believe
Think about objective things
To build a better world
Where only harmony and love reign.

Could it be that when we were born into this world
Did we have a choice at the beginning?
Yes, but that choice has been stolen from us
Just because we were innocent
To the evils created by the human condition
And that given us the human condition
That deep down
We knew what we were born with
But we just didn't want to believe it.

Labels

When we are born, a book is opened to us
And that same thing is printed on us
Labels, a religion before we had a name
A name and numbers that identify us.
This book ends later
But it's not buried with us
It is archived in the memory archives
In the story that many want to forget.
Everyone will forget you and your glories.

Pure creativity dies at birth
And what remains?
Residual creativity and innovation remain.
There remains the small essence that needs a body
This nucleus is sensitive and requires protection.
It's a life without salt, passion, flavor or heart.
At birth we are designated human
But before we are attached to a human body
We were a star that died in the vast universe.
And when our human body dies
Let's be new stars who learned
What it is like to suffer in the face of just one human life.

Like a cloth torn into strips

Being honest with you,
I admit that I love being yours,
In this clandestine, I don't even care,
Just being yours is my privilege alone,
That many never had and wanted,
Sailing in your sweet sea of tenderness,
Without understanding your fire, they burned themselves.

This fire of passion that lasts,
And I love your heat,
That calms me down and I fall asleep in your lap,
This infinite love, which is pure love.
That despite our clandestine,
You blind the envious with that flame,
And you illuminate those who love you,
I love loving you in hiding.
Hope

I only have one thread of hope left
A spider web that seems fragile
And a shot in the dark that lost shape
While I have a fever dream
Even if you don't have a fever.

Released at the top of my lungs, a prayer
That propagates in an echo and is lost.
As I preached to my dream
The trading floor, in which my fear
It's not like waking up and seeing another day
But to wake up and see another day
In which hypocrisy reigns in everyone.

Nobody goes anywhere
As long as your freedom
Not rescued from fasting,
The pure hunger for knowledge and reality.
Let there be truth
And when those who sleep wake up
Take the pure nectar and believe
That knowledge is the way
To discover your next address
Like birds leaving the nest,
Learn to fly
on the horizon of the new dawn.

End

To me
The hours in the background
At the ends of the world
I scream yes
To silence so many no's
That don't fit in my hands.

Empty hands at the end
In the fight
Like the rosemary fields
In the mountains of bitterness
Where life lost its meaning
Where the devil lost his boots
Unloved and forgotten
In the hours, neither alive nor dead.

Happiness

Happiness
Smile
Now you give
Now you breathe
Now caress
Say how much you love someone
You'll see when.

Harbingers of destruction (All politicians – without exception)

Harbingers of misfortune
They gave a sign of their grace
To preach to the people
That changed something
When the sand of time
Blind anyone who wants to see the truth
It's not the people's fault
It's the propaganda that kills reality.

People, this silence
It's a nail in the coffin
In a country that dies poor and hoarse
People, they have no compassion.

Today a son is not going to war
But it's whatever.
Today a son leaves home
In the hope that it comes
To find better life
Or your life will be compromised
Before the harbingers of misfortune
Who preach that change
It's right there around the corner.

Like a cloth torn into strips (Part II)

I want to be your impossible,
Love you even if this destiny,
Ironically incredible,
May he finally deign to let me stay with you.

Ignorance

May be bad, fate cruel,
And give me all the impossible,
May he find, incredible,
And make me think about the unlikely.

But I will fight for you woman,
You're the one who anyway,
Whatever happens, whatever happens,
I love you in hiding, you are ultimate.

Far from my ignorance,
I'm in the only place,
Where can I kill her,
Without committing any crime.

Now I can just ignore,
That piece of me,
That takes me away from wisdom,
Of pure endless knowledge.

Or else, kill her little by little,
No crime or recriminations.
Without being afraid of my actions,
I draw on the wisdom of thousands of books.

I torture her, disembowel her and cut her,
She twists, she screams, but from here,
Don't run away while I, a student,
Don't kill ignorance,
That has haunted me since childhood.

The one who is petty, evil,
It made me an unloved person,
It almost destroyed who I am,
But finally it was me who killed her.

Loneliness

The pain of loneliness
For the nefarious contempt
To those who love the darkness
From her giving birth to epics at random.

They reported the glory of the nation overseas
But fate gave them everything
Less on history, a little consideration
These are the wise men, representatives of Luso.

Platonic lovers, ship designers,
Of dreamed seas never sailed
They defied death to make centipede paint
Distilling their poison, but unloved.

Society killed them, like fleas
Slowly sucking and poisoning.
In the end, society proclaims rhymes as its
Secular people are wise, the wise are reckless.

Cruelty

Every drop of cruelty
That form in the dew
From the dawns of reality
When resting, before work
Of lives that dreamed of peace,
All ideologies have died
For only one and only one capable
He dictated the fate of many who struggled
In reality of sins they did not commit.

Corrupt laws in a single theology
In a corrupt theology above all others
In a single line of thought
When the being dares to be born in the early morning
The day will be red and sad, without love
And the flesh slowly rots in the heat
And to the sound of the weapons orchestras.

Soldiers occupy all the beds
These beds where children could sleep
And dream of a better world and smile.
Women, mothers and creators of science
Protectors of happiness and childhood
They could be free to be more and better
That the Men who corrupt everything
And they forget what love is.

Stoned, raped, sold,
The best Women suffer.
Child soldiers, little lost souls
Who could have everything, suffer.

Know

Know,
That I am not eternal
Think
That I will give you all of me
Even if you have nothing
Even so
I want you to step on a jasmine carpet
You're not wrong
If you tell me that living is difficult
But it's harder to live without you
And that dreams run wild
And I never forgot
From your first words
When everything was so uncertain
When we walked the streets
How we still do and stay close
To stop and kiss us for no apparent reason
It's such a shameless tangent
That I don't scream love for you.

Know,
That I am not eternal
But what power
I'm here for you,
Think
May our love
It could be like an old movie
Maybe like the classic
Passion, pain and a happy ending
Moments in slow motion
That we want to rewind intensely
And madly so that we can't
Letting die what we created eternal.
True

Only those who tell the truth,
You know its true meaning.
Come from this, kindness
Even for those who have forgotten
That the truth should be the pillar
Fundamental of human laws, next to respect.
Which we must fight for.

Truth is not bought in the market
From counterfeit products
But even so, it is sold in exchange for nothing, apparently.

Respect is the fundamental basis
Of trust, and it is with trust,
Along with respect,
In truth, there is peace between all men without exception.

The truth doesn't kill, it kills
Whoever lies, lies with a closed mind.
It hurts? I know it hurts.
If someone comes to you at dawn
And admit that this person who was mistaken,
Someone lied about you before, in your coat.

Take that person to your house
And take a good look at who you have in front of you
Be kind and share your food.
If that someone were to ask for the whole hand later,
It's because it's demanding, that's clear.
You know you gave a finger.
He this person asked for a whole arm,
But it was a finger, it was what you could give.

Then you will have the truth.
If then the truth of your work is cut off
Know that you did your best to be better
In that case, it is better, even if with love,
Get the lie out of the way
Because this is the best medicine.

CHAPTER THREE

I thought you were the captain

I thought you were the captain
From a drifting boat
But after all, you are the castaway with a heart.
Your hand that forever sails
In sunken dreams written
In leaves that the sea took with it
So that the sad and disillusioned eyes
They couldn't cry any more dyed salt.

At sea you smile, captain of yourself
King of yourself, emperor of the wild sea
In the sea breeze and above all the wilderness
Where monsters hid in your path
You found your crown in the abyss
And your throne of crystal clear water in pain
Because beyond the pain there is love.
A love that no one can kill you.
Desecrate, steal, deceive,
obfuscate or even eviscerate.

The poet's work written in the poets' tavern

To those who only look
Lucky for you that you don't have it,
Drinking wine and are poets,
Singers and lovers
Of forbidden platonic loves
With the muses of the taverns full
Of drunken and brutish men.

But in secret the poets,
They suffer in silence despite laughing
From the stupid jokes of idiots
That scare away the muses.
Poets, when drinking, fall in love
By the Lady, the Muse of muses,
The Queen of all,
Who sits next to you.

Drunk on yourself,
He has love with her
Carnal in your imagination
And platonic in the real world
And it's nothing more than that.

- "To love is not a sin!"
Says one of the brutes from afar.
And I don't know if these words
They would be another joke
Or if they would be for the poet.

Being loved is a privilege taken away
To the poets who love and suffer,
But suffering is perpetual and continuous,
That even after your death
The words keep pleading
And begging, begging for love.
But they are not loved, except by their Muse
The one that whispers to you with excitement
The divine words of the complete works.

In death, only mourners cry
For it is your duty to cry with fake tears.
And so the poet is buried.
Besides, what's the point of burying
Another being who suffered the plots
From the hypocritical and false society,
Just it.

Happiness?
Only had when it was packed
On the immaculate breast of a muse and mother,
That ultimate muse who saw him born.

The poet is only loved in death
And your soul gets stuck in the mindset
False of society that like this,
He saw him born, live, drink, never grow old
And then die.

Wine helps with inspiration
From the poet who writes about his muse,
And in the night outside he hallucinates and sees his body
In the stars in the bright sky
In distant constellations, he writes drunk
The words that draw the dream.

He writes of the muse who sits
By your side in the cold tavern
It is empty of importance and full of uselessness.
The muse serves him the last deadly coptail
The real hypocrisy of society.

In the last words he says:
- “I drank from suffering and suffered
But I survived to this day
To die, never in peace,
For I did not write the work that the universe
He ordered writing and creating.
The Work is incomplete.”
The Work was incomplete.

Perfect Muse

By the voice of the muse that inspired me
Writing poems about the world
That she made me invent, because she ordered it
It's up to me, an imperfect poet, to write
About your body and your lips
They gently kiss my face.

Knowing that in the moonlight,
Your silhouette shines in splendor
Stopping looking brings me pain
And loving her brings me her flavor.

Sea mermaid, extended
Just for me, green eyes
A light that illuminates,
Scented golden and brown hair
A pure breeze in my ocean
In which I get lost but I'm happy.

I'm an apprentice
I learn words with you
In your voice of pure harmony
Otherwise, I disconnect from the world
I look at your shiny body in fantasy
For me it is pure joy.

Perfect breast
Hill of a beautiful city
Maybe Maria Lisboa your name
You embrace the sea with your arms.

Thin, flat belly
The beginning of your hips
A guitar that cries in the Fado.
Legs and feet, I see the columns
Main things you support
The weight of being the Muse of Portugal,
And bathe in the waters of the Tagus
Your real home.

Tolerance

Tolerance is a given
Which over time has been lost.
Becoming a luxury that few have
That only eccentrics hold,
They are rich in goods but poor in spirit.

Tolerance is sold in public
In this eternal and distant republic,
It would never be given, as before,
And now auctions are held at the price of gold,
Only bought by important people.
How did we get to this?

But the important ones don't use it
They just collect it as a piece of art
To put it next to patience,
Both stored in a dusty basement,
Spider webs and centipedes.

There is a monster in the basement
Called hypocrisy that keeps
Patience and tolerance,
So that its owner can use it for greed,
When he wants,
And he owns his will,
Which is clearly her own.

Beggar

I was never a housekeeper
I didn't even ask for alms in cars
From the point of view in detail
From the disturbing killing and skinning,
In a limp and deaf way,
Society lacks the spring of culture,
The real beggar who clears his head
To the webs of manipulation

I never asked for alms
I just stole letters from the library
To put them in order.
Despite being crude, they had order.
And the muse wanted this order
As disordered as me
I get messed up myself
And I order and return to disorder.

And society won't even arrive
To the glorious fullness of disorder
Of having a thousand thoughts
To order.

Society has an order
Just be ordered
With small salaries
Disorganized in small numbers
And such big problems.

My book saved me today
From the bombardment of insults
My culture saved me
The life that is rightfully mine
My book saved my freedom
My book calmed down and embraced
My cry that wanted to scream
The lyrics scream my cry, now.
The words in this book are my voice now.
I am they and they are my being,
Whatever happens, whatever it hurts.

My book got me where I am today
My book protected me
Of the idiocies of the woman in front
Who talks through his elbows
That weaves skeins
And sew the jackets to the third parties.

My book saved my culture,
My Language and Memory
Of the letters that play with me
Like simple, naughty children.
I remember my childhood
Because the lyrics of my book
They saved my memory and happiness.

Early morning

Have courage my love
Time does not stop
There are no hours for pain
And nothing separates us.

Today could be better,
With so much to live for
How will we know by heart
Every detail without reading.

Have courage my princess
If tomorrow is black
That the rhythm of what doesn't matter
Do not penetrate the intimate.

Courage, have courage
Breast wants and screams freedom
Dreams want color and courage
They want freedom without time
Without the dictatorship of the clock.

My love, tomorrow will be the day
If today was a wasted night
Courage, my errant sun
The morning will be dawn.

Dream killer

I became
Once again the killer
Of my own
Doomed dreams
(Victimized)
For the sincere fears
And let me scream
(And leave me the pain.)
That I believed
What could you change
Or you get tired of having this
haughty nose
That you could,
In fact, it just makes you tired
Not even for
Three seconds, of that pride.

My love my Love)
At two by three, you would be real
Like dreams (I believe)
That I thought I had (I cried),
Of me running with you
In the cereal fields (Arrozal)
But if everything so far,
Dreams or love
It's to forget (I don't forget)

Raw chest (A wound)
The invented kisses
In the paradox (What did I invent?)
Out of nowhere in a live circle
In the blank nights
We empty sheets
From the beginning.

Your love

How many times have I spoken
That I love you and will love you
And the suppressed cries that I silenced
Were in vain
In the flood of disappointment.

My chest hurts now
Your inordinate absence
Awakens screams outside the night
But the voice is silent
The soul is almost ready
To defy all contraries
And I draw new imaginaries.

How many times have I spoken
That our love was more
Something much more than eternal
Like morning dews
It was sweet and meaningful
In our stations
Of our emotions.
Our love could be eternal
And not that pure wilderness
From distant words
One-way like the roads.
Boy's heart

Boy's heart
Don't take the wrong way
You who get into trouble
And the head doesn't gain any sense.
Listen to the voice of reason
Don't listen to the disappointment.

It hurts, I know it hurts
Suffer, I know you suffer
Disillusionment only destroys
And sometimes you even get lost.

Little bird should be free
In the emotions we experience
In the paradox of the dream
A cry emerges alone, the deception.

Multiplied by seven

In a fire that burned inside
Now the pain of your emptiness
In the face of time so slow
The time that forgot you.

Love multiplied times seven
You are an angel and a fighting woman, remembered
Your shining happiness
A guide and example, beloved.

Luster of hope
Smile that shined
Voice that filled our being
Look closely at your tenderness.

The tender touch of pure happiness
So simple that it healed the being.

We live on your love
We never lacked affection
From your hands the heat
The cold that has now become.

It hurts
It hurts so much
It just hurts
It hurts
But there is also happiness
Of having been yours.

I went

I always revealed
Too much of me
I thought
Too much in endless nights
I found myself lost
Without ever finding me,
Broken
And with so much to give.

I was the silent answer
Of knowing how to be
In the weeping of the morning
Where many get lost.

I went
I went
And I will no longer be
I know now that I'm exhausted
The tears
And the sea will be incomplete,
That could inspire poets.

Room

In a dark room
I feel that emptiness
Of your absence
The loneliness it causes.

The tears
And the silent words
The silence of the walls
I want you to understand.

Back tomorrow
I have space in me
In my heart
To give and sell until the end.

Listen slowly to my plea
Just like the slow lament
In the blank nights
In a room devoid of you.

Innocent love

And if I want to stay
Remember that I stay for you
My love, to love you
And to tell you that I lived
The greatest love story.

There are no rules in this game
If we are the eternal child
That for the time that advances
And laugh mischievously at the first kiss.

And if I stay with you
I will be yours forever
Just like a river
That runs into a sea.
Your sea
Our sea.

Words

Words we created
For something (who knows what)
Words we dictate
To answer, (who knows what)
Words we keep silent
So it doesn't hurt, (who knows what)

There are words that come into the world
To bring happiness
There are words that come into the world
To bring sadness.

Words that hurt
We are human after all
Words that make us smile
We are human after all.
These are the words
That make you dance
The little people
Always working.
I liked you

I liked you
I who lived in you
And I smile
To the dizzy details
Of the jokes
That we had
I thought...
It was a love without barriers.

Now I'm a sailor
From a stranded boat.
And I still breathe
The waves of your sea
I let myself sink.

Your breeze still plays
My crazy heart
And in pure madness
I am the lost sailor
In the middle of the vast ocean
Of your absence.

Come back and save me
Mermaid and muse
Come back and save me
Take me out of this bitterness.
We are harmony

In trio, duo or solo,
We are harmony,
We are children in the lap,
That the cosmos packs,
With all your patience,
From a father who calms us down.
It's logic and science,
We are music, that awakens,
Who sleeps in the absence of sound.
Find peace
That inside is born
The joy it brings
If we believe in touch
Perfect of words
That fill our soul
Tuning melodies
That fill us with calm.

Give me your hand

Give me your hand
Come with me
Give me your hand
I want to walk with you
In this life, I give you my heart
I'm in love
For life outside
I was the one who always loved you
Sadness doesn't live here.
Princess give me your hand
Walk with me
Take good care of my heart
You are my shelter.

Silence

I touch your silence
In your empty objects
In a house empty of you
In a burning perfume echoes
In the dead walls of my being.
It was when I lost you
I realized that the promises of love oaths
They left a pain and I was empty of you.
I insisted, I felt, I fought, I lost.

In the noisy flesh
The wounds are from war
A battle in silence
A fight in the deep dark of your absence.

Pretend

Pretend we play
With the shadow of our hand in hand
And we draw the letters with chalk
As mischievous as your look.
Maybe tomorrow I want to kiss
Your pink lips, maybe.
Maybe I'll ask for a date tomorrow
Or you steal my apple
That I wanted to share forever
With you smiling, I remember.

Pretend we count the years together
May our joined hands never become disunited
On the street we walked when we grew up
And that we speak timid feelings from the heart.
Stage

On stage I'm different
The hurt hurts less
The voice has a warm tone
Even in the moments
Dead from the note interval
The joy of living and healing
What music do you bring on your laps?
And in the dizzying turns of the dance
A song appears in a child's dreams.
On stage I'm different
I create magic without wanting to
I create passion in burning fire
In the dance laps I get lost
When looking at your incessant smile
I'm the child who plays barefoot
In the sands of passing time
Bring me the dream
Bring me the song
That you whistle and I sing
Brings love to my heart.
To be different on this stage.

Voices

Shrill voices,
Headaches,
You cry and scream through your teeth.
The unreal is cried, it collapses
The world, the real one cries.

It hurts, even if you ask the universe,
May it silence some of the voices,
That with atrocious speeds
They slowly kill the real concrete
Of my sad being without color.

Some of the voices that provoke
Pains, and not just me, crush,
Who wants to be free from frivolous society
That first sows panic, then storms.

In this colorless world
Without the sun, the heat,
The gray and frowning ones remain.
The sepia sunsets and the birds
They were extinguished by beauty,
The cold and frivolous humanity holds dear,
To petty ego and false innocence.
This is Man, his main delinquency.

Make me an unknown poet
In the price of your arrogant books
Because I know, certain conversations have upset you
And I know you want to hate ignorant poets.

I would be ignorant if I fell into the industry
And wait for temporary and payment in a hurry.
Exchange help for no help,
my anguish.
A smile and take care of the expense made in a hurry.
And I had already heard the whole litany.

A poet knows how to pretend.
And who takes advantage of the work
He knows how to forge and is always on the run
And in the end, they know how to sell and beat the snake.

Yes, it's you there, the direct one that hurts you
Is very...
When the poet knows how to pretend better
People say that the poet wants to be a myth and dead
Who were poor unloved people without shame.
And you selling empty pages
Whose hypocrisy in the face of unread pages?