KIDS
There is nothing at all like the moment you were born,
That tiny creature with closed eyes and tender skin.
Just knowing who you were, nothing else could I see.
In two days those charming eyes were staring back at me.
I hoped hearts opened every day so kindness would take its way.
Come closer my dear, touching his cheek so soft so sweet.
School time will come, giving and learning, growing fast.
And teens, effervescence, weird behaviour and cries.
Be a nice child who needs to have much to see.
Skill, talent, ability, also troubles and sadness.
Come closer again, you may not know but you need some help.
I’d kiss your cheeks but I keep away, don’t have to speak.
I see what you mean, closing my eyes I read your mind.
You are my child who is flying high with no return.
THE ROMANS
When you relive history, the Roman ancestral Empire,
The Mare Nostrum22 and pathways warriors highly controlled,
The lust of glory invades the weak heart of laments.
Those were times of glorious feasts, circuses and theatres,
— Virgil and Martial — poets in the Latin mother tongue,
Mother of cultures embracing Eastern and Western lands.
Hectic centuries have flown, false nations have been formed,
Lives stained by wars, ignorance has won many countries
With the realm of the most unfair power.
I still remember Caesar’s rule, mastering passionate lovers.
I still want to feel a Roman soldier.
So, I soon give a smile to the past.
The sun came out clearer this morning
So as to warm the most flamboyant memories.
22. The Mediterranean Sea.
WORKING CLASS
Looking at the horizon, fields with plenty of flowers
All kind of flowers not only the red ones of my ancestors,
High flags in the wind, the working class’s life,
Cries of freedom, footprints on the path,
Hands to the rifle, inner fire bursting fast,
An always lit spark will ignite our steps
Not to miss the way since struggle is power,
Versatile word between water falling on the earth.
A maimed worker’s and a boss pretending friendship.
Yellow sunflowers sunbathing the whole day.
I see the relationship of what’s going on,
Lack of absolute truth. A bird flying all day,
The perplexing sound of damn bullets and work.
That legendary code between God and men.
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