SOLEDAD DE PÁJAROS MUERTOS
Hay soledad de pájaros muertos en
mis veredas,
el sol extinguió su voz amarilla y
el velo de la noche cubre
mi existencia sombría.
Los mantos de la noche como lenguas
de fuego, frío, helado,
congelan mis esperanzas alicaídas;
cuervos del miedo picotean mi sien.
Drogada la ilusión vaga por las
descalzas calles;
se percibe la niebla del dolor en
sus alquitranes,
¡Asfixia su voz tenebrosa!
Me cojo a tientas de las cuerdas de
la cordura,
se deshilacha un hilo de sangre de
mi alma
y mi voz,
mi voz estalla en paroxismo
ciego...
La soledad carcome mis huesos;
me invita el vaso de sus cuervos
negros.
Con uñas y dientes
perforo el hueco que me haga
ver la luz;
pero mi vida es ya un túnel sin
salida.
Soy en el pavimento
una estrella desahuciada.
Me lleva a sus castillos;
la nada.
Autora: Edith Elvira Colqui
Rojas-Perú-Derechos reservados
LONELY DEAD BIRDS
There is loneliness of dead birds in my ways,
the sun turned off his yellow voice and
the veil of the night covers
My sad existence
The mantles of the night like tongues of fire, cold, ice cream,
freeze my hopes stacked;
Scary crows peck in my temple.
Drugged, the illusion wanders the barefoot streets;
the mist of pain is perceived in its tars,
Drown his dark voice!
I feel groped on the ropes of sanity
a thread of blood frays from my soul
and my voice
My voice explodes in a blind paroxysm ...
Loneliness eats my bones;
the glass of his black crows invites me.
With nails and teeth
I drill the hole that makes me see the light;
But my life is already a dead end tunnel.
I'm on the sidewalk
An evicted star.
It takes me to its castles;
The nothing.
Author: Edith Elvira Colqui Rojas-Peru-All rights reserved
LONELY DEAD BIRDS
There is loneliness of dead birds in my ways,
the sun turned off his yellow voice and
the veil of the night covers
My sad existence
The mantles of the night like tongues of fire, cold, ice cream,
freeze my hopes stacked;
Scary crows peck in my temple.
Drugged, the illusion wanders the barefoot streets;
the mist of pain is perceived in its tars,
Drown his dark voice!
I feel groped on the ropes of sanity
a thread of blood frays from my soul
and my voice
My voice explodes in a blind paroxysm ...
Loneliness eats my bones;
the glass of his black crows invites me.
With nails and teeth
I drill the hole that makes me see the light;
But my life is already a dead end tunnel.
I'm on the sidewalk
An evicted star.
It takes me to its castles;
The nothing.
Author: Edith Elvira Colqui Rojas-Peru-All rights reserved
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