Tal vez otro día me hubiera puesto a dormir pero cada quien sabe cómo se olvida un suplicio cada uno sabe como sobrellevar la máscara que cae al suelo y se destroza me ha dolido el cuerpo de pronto como si toda la vejez del mundo se me juntara no quise ver el cielo y sus funerales no escuchar músicos con sus demonios dentro me quedé esperando nada más a ver si el tiempo se hundía por sí solo lúgubre luz de las resignaciones rendija de la pérdida y la salvación no me dormí ni apague la lámpara porque el mundo debe vivirse con todas sus piedras y abismos hay un principio en el calabozo de la noche pero lo hay también al quedarse quieto los ojos están aquí y en todas partes igual al péndulo ese agujero que se traga a la vida unos y otros como los hombres como las historias que cuentan al hombre y que los hombres cuentan a sus descendientes no me dormí ni apagué la lámpara para decir que había vivido.
Miguel Ángel Ortiz
(1984)
Poeta Mexicano
(1984)
Poeta Mexicano
Maybe another day I had put to sleep but everyone knows how it forgets a chore everyone knows how to cope with the mask falls down and destroys the body hurt me suddenly as if the whole world is aging not I join I wanted to see the sky and his funeral not hear musicians with their demons within I waited around to see if time itself was sinking dingy light of the resignations slit loss and salvation
I do not sleep or turn off the lamp because the world has lived with all its rocks and chasms there is a principle in the dungeon of the night but there are also the eyes are still staying here and everywhere equal to the pendulum that hole that swallows life to each other as men
as the stories that man and that men tell their descendants fell asleep or turned off the lamp that had lived.
I do not sleep or turn off the lamp because the world has lived with all its rocks and chasms there is a principle in the dungeon of the night but there are also the eyes are still staying here and everywhere equal to the pendulum that hole that swallows life to each other as men
as the stories that man and that men tell their descendants fell asleep or turned off the lamp that had lived.
Miguel Ángel Ortiz
(1984)
Mexican Poet
(1984)
Mexican Poet
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