Afraid

Tomorrow is something foggy
In the sorrow mind.
When you ask,
“If I am afraid of you?”
I have to recognize something:
You can change everything,
The light on your eyes,
The wildness of my heart,
The clouds of this hurricane.

“Am I afraid?” I ask myself
And I say, “No.”
I ask once again
And I say “No.”
Finally, after days of questioning
I answer to myself,
“Sometimes I don’t know.”

A lot of people ask questions
But there is one that makes me think,
“Even though, what you know you can love?”
I fly away,
Out, out to the sunlight,
Trespassing the mirror and then
I look at me and ask,
“Even though, what you know you can love?”
And I ask myself again,
“Who deserves love?”
Everybody,
People’s madness is also something to love;
Vain is something to love;
Shyness, Sadness
And any of these little diseases are reasons to love.

The dawn comes home and I am afraid.
It is scary to know you there,
Somewhere,
Asking questions
Laughing,
My past, my present, my future are like that
Little illnesses.

Everybody deserves love,
I am afraid
Because life changes in a second:
Is this the second or the first?

Despierto

Del sol y la luna quien es dueño
no son tus ojos,
si los abres al verlos
la sonrisa en tus labios es tuya,
tú la creas,
la admiración en tus labios,
la comtorsión de las cejas,
las cortinas replegadas,
todas, todas son tuyas.

Despierto en el sueño con la conciencia
de que el barco si encaya es mío,
que soy capitán y no rata,
transforma, construye, vuelve.

La creación y la complejidad son rompecabezas
distintos entre sí,
ambos eternos labradores que se cruzan,
pero tú tienes al roble,
la ubre y al ángel de esta historia.

Despierto, cambia las piezas,
destierra al insomnio y ve
el amanecer y el buen día
que te saluda al dar la vuelta
sobre la montaña.

The Beach

There are all this ears, noses, and eyes
Waiting for a signal
Where the tedious comes and goes
Nobody else comes.
The problem is not the sea,
It is what you see.
The problem is not the waves,
But the way you act.
Neither the sun nor the sand heat alone
If you continue safe at your shady life.


Nothing means anything without an effort.
If you wait a life to burn your wood
It would do it at the graveyard.
We bet and lose.
Luck and love come together
And we need to deserve them.

Just like sunburn loves your skin,
Or the ocean swallows our heat.
Your winter stops the sunburn,
The waves, the sand, everything.
It is its work,
But can you create another season:
Spring, Summer, Autumn
And maybe then the beach is not meaningless
Not anymore.

We find what we need
If we open our soul
To the sun, the waves and to us.

Ioga

Om… Om…

De vegades no queda més que el ioga
Terra, peus, alé.
Tot plegat en moviments i suor
A l’abast d’una nit que encara no acaba
I s’escampa com si no fos sufficient
La seva llargada per sentir
Què cada pas que faig
Torna a ésser un de nou.

L’aprenentatge és aire i somnis,
Vida i noves coses endavant.

Si faig una petita meditació m’adormo,
Potser no pensar és una son complerta
Per sempre.

U, dues, tres, quatre, cinc
I tornar a començar.

Something to crumble

The walls praising for safe
Have been there for ages
In border lines among:
Palestinians, Mexicans, Americans, Jewish, Germans
And some others.

We have divided spaces, multiplied mistakes,
But we never sum efforts.

Love is something that usually lost perspective.
We cannot see it.
The fog of everything else is there:
Politics, religion, countries, rules,
Whatever justifies a new built wall?
Differences, laziness, guiltiness,
Happiness, Sadness,
Scariness, loneliness,
Everything else if it rhymes with “Ess,”
With “ion," with "an,"
And wisely with “ish.”
Our selfish thought,
Unique as the cultures we have to shoot down.

Pull your sticks,
Push your bricks,
We all have something to crumble down.

Inconsciente Personal

Alguna vez la luna me convenció

Con ese lento movimiento

Que da en su abrir y cerrar

Infinito.

Cada fiesta en tu honor

Contrae el alma dilatada

Concediendo un toque fondo

Arrepentido,

Indolente.

Algunas veces no se necesita sujeto

Ni verbo ni predicado ni pensamientos.

Algunas veces todos ellos

Juntos en marabunta,

Pegados,

Encaramados

O simplemente inermes,

Engañan al oído con las luz

Del terremoto.

Viene dentro el movimiento ruin

Anquilosado en desperfectos humanos.

Así,

Se esconde de la faz

Pero muestra cuando puede fauces,

Baba, dolor, miedo,

Sueño, lágrimas, coincidencias.

Si no se ve, y existe, es.

Así, simple

En la profundidad del sol

Y el goteo instantáneo del alma.

Se muestra, se descubre.

Siente tanto cuando florece dentro

Que arrasa cuanto puede en jaurías

De silencios dominantes en bemoles

Sostenidos sin querer.

Está ahí siempre.

Al acecho.

Double Bass Player

In a dream we shared the illusion
Hanging around a cord
There was no singer,
Just a Double Bass
With his player.
They shared a silence
Among several tones,
Rhythm aesthetics beloved
Passion and heart sounds.

They become just one
Without words, not even letters,
They just have each other.

The big body and the arms around
With a flying bow moving,
The around the belly was a shine
Looking up for hand
To let it lean in the body
Like the moment when a lighting
Crosses the glass and shows its jaws
To scare the night lovers.

Nothing has changed inside the book.
The story is just different,
Without a singer,
Without the notes,
Without the image of the player
Behind the double bass.

If you can imagine the thumb
Sounds like a breath memory,
Before exhalation there are two eyes
Walking through the pentagram,
They are looking for their own sound,
Their own silence,
Their own love.

Maybe tomorrow among the lines
There is going to be,
The music, the rhythm
The oblivion, the nostalgia,
The low sound of sharing
One single moment.