I
dedicate this issue in general to everybody.
To Latin-America, because I love its
future explosion.
To the famous North America, because my poetry
Also sings To everything that dies. To
old Europe,
and also to the second Europe because I fear
the future, in general, of Mankind.
Adolescent,
fisherman of old enamoured women, great
fisherman of truffles
of girls happy like the sun,
of a sure winner to gamble the soul.
I, the great hunter,
great manager of solitary nets,
nets for solitude,
special nets to hunt
timid hearts.
Tired of seeing
so many people dying
in the heat
a summer afternoon
in the public gardens
in the public streets
in the public baths
I placed my solitary nets.
Afterwards I said to myself
Time is necessary
I gave myself a piece of advice
To drink coffee without any milk
every morning.
I advised myself to sit down
I told a women
to sit next to me.
Your fresh ass I told her on the fresh ground.
We kissed each other with a great love kiss.
She
told me about her ways of entertaining solitude,
to show her legs or move them
according to the cold or to our habits,
to sit besides a man
and allow us to be touched
until feeling the necessity of becoming mothers.
sometimes, it is understood,
we sell pearls to crazy men,
lost in the sun. Oriental
pearls
white pearls of love,
bits of pearls, arranged
generally, on our belly,
pearls, in the end, in the shape of rows necklaces
to choke better yes he said violent pearls.
There
are contagious feelings, endless laughs, terrible pains, pains of the heart.
Your
face has gone through my heart only once and it has stained itself forever with
blood, pure red blood, senselessly, because any other colour would do.
And
that delicious skin, that contagious skin like an illness; as to turn me mad
with your skin; your almond tree skin (just to mention an unknown fruit) your
skin of candied almonds and nothing else for the time being, to close my eyes
and repeat all this once again.
Genitals
illuminated by your skin sweep away everything that is possible, they sweep me
away, they make my heart skip a beat.
Enough
for today, this closing and opening of eyes can turn us mad, a madness that
would be too serious to earn money (a small fortune on the sea shore) as to be
able to close your eyes forever on the sea shore.
Salomon,
son of David, powerful executive of his times, knowledgeable of languages of all
animals of the earth and of the sky.
One
day he placed a small ant on the palm of his right hand and asked it: who is the
greatest man on earth? The ant, which still was completely straight, without any
cuts in its body, asked Salomon to raise his hand a little more, a little more.
When Salomon's hand was above his head the ant said: You are really grand, but
I'm even more because I'm above your head.
Without
a smile, Salomon shook his hand, and the ant fell on the ground without a noise,
and Salomon cursed the mischievous ant, condemning it to live almost cut in
halves.
Maxim:
An executive is always an executive whether he is Salomon, Bush or Aznar.
And
I went running to where the apple trees grew
and I saw when I reached panting the spring of the rivers
that the demons of war
and also the powerful demons of peace
hid their big asses in opaque mansions
and then I chose
the danger of the high peaks
to roam about the mountains and celebrate
with the antique wise men, in small rooms,
a newway
of living.
This
tranquillity, this peace, for which we are able of committing
the most enormous mistakes, to set the most feline
traps, the most convenient treasons. This tranquillity, this peace
sometimes is love.
