mariposa de ghetto
a los quince
zozobre a orillas de un faro
a los treinta
compre una falda
azul para mi sepelio
hoy me duele
el elegía en la barca
mezquina del alba
y vengo arrodillarme
ante la locura
La Resaca Issue 2
Translation of Antonio Machado's poem XV Come sing with me in chorus: There’s nothing, nothing we know, from an arcane sea we came, to a mapless sea we’ll go… And between the two enigmas is the serious mystery; three arks are locked by an undiscovered key. By light nothing is lit, by the sage nothing is shown. What does the word say? Or water from the stone? XVII Man’s only rich in hypocrisy, relies on ten thousand kinds of lying disguise, and from the spare key to his house he labors to make a lockpick good for robbing his neighbor’s. XXXI Heart, resounding yesterday, the ringing of your small gold coin has gone away? The box you hide your wealth in, before time breaks it, is emptying inside? The few things that we know, let’s trust they won’t turn out to be true. XLIV All passes and all stays, but passing is ours, for we pass along making roads, roads over the sea. XLV To die… To fall like a drop of sea in the sea so vast? Or to be what I’ve ...
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