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POEMAS DE SIDDARTHA

TOMATOES IN THE VIA

Red tomatoes on the floor with the mixture
Some
And the blood spilled on the asphalt reflects
the eyes of passing vehicles

a long line of heads

windows And a woman's black shoes
Far from each other

painted nail His feet left
Tan
As if anyone belonged

Yet I know that somehow surrounded by tomatoes
She's my friend busted

The sister I never knew tomatoes
Blood
my sandals.

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LAST minstrel

A tribute to Alejandro Durán.

"... what people are saying: That black
other plays, Note that if you eat ... "

always knew that her voice was a gift to cheer
men never left the covers and the hat and" switched "the farmer claimed the misery
the penalties clueless sagacity to his cat and trova no place for sadness Man
later immortalized in stool
Women kiss on the merit of simple words and sound

from village to village wore the victory of "Francisco the Man" about the death
Simple and sober as land
With wisdom mount that permeated his notes
With the water elemental
eternal Fifteen de noviembre el acordeón enmudeció
Señoras llorosas reclamaban el justísimo título de viudas
Decían el disparate que el rey había muerto
Pero él sólo dormía el sueño de la leyenda.