the famous poet of her own text
live, great Quevedo, live time or stand, or
stumbles, or returns.
Why lie with the flame of perfume, with night
of modern cinemas, waiting rooms land of the grave? Let
today the instrument in our hands. We open with patience
our nest so that nobody throws us out of pity to rest.
dig the hole every evening after winning our bread.
That in this land is room for everyone: the poor and the rich.
Because land is a gift to all:
the weak, strong, mothers, las rameras.
Caen de bruces. Caen de cabeza o sentados.
Por donde más les pesa su persona, todos caen y caen.
Aunque el cajón sea lustroso o de cristal. Aunque las tablas
sin cepillar parezcan una cáscara rota con la semilla reventada.
Todos caen y caen, y van perdiendo el bulto en su caída,
¡hasta que son la tierra milenaria y primorosa!
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