Companeros / Comrades ( Spanish and English )

Mis poemas se transforman en suenos, suenos perdidos y encontrados. Aquellos que se escapan en los suspiros que da la vida y nos dejan sin aliento alguno. Mis palabras las encuentro entrelazadas una con la otra, como si fuesen dos amantes retratados en la cama de la esperanza. Gozando, retozando y viviendo dia a dia con el amor que ambos se tienen uno al otro. Y si eso no les dice mucho, para aquellos incredulos que me vieron husmeando entre latas viejas y ropa usada - dejarme decirles, que yo no busco entre basura alguna. Yo solo encuentro lo que por ley me pertenece ademas de lo que ha de ser no para mi, pero para aquel pobre infeliz que algun dia retozara de alegria por haber encontrado en mi lo que nunca encontro en el. Por lo tanto hoy les digo, dichosos sean los poetas de mis tiempos, por que hoy por hoy, la mente se abre a la realidad con una rapidez que aniquila en nuestros seres - el miedo a lo desconocido; Y asi fluye sin caudal alguno, sangre que da vida al ser humano como si fuese una madre en parto: pujando y gritando con todas sus entranas hasta que el padre se desmaya al ver a su criatura recien nacido. Entonces dichosos sean los poetas de mis tiempos por que se abren a la realidad de la vida con una madurez desconocida, pero infelices sean por que se cierran a la imaginacion de mis palabras.

----------- Translation --------------------

Comrades,

My poems are transformed into dreams; dreams lost and found. Those that escape into the sighs of life and leave us without breath. My words are interlaced one with the other, as if they were two lovers captured in the bed of faith. Enjoying, frolicking, and living day by day with the love that both have one for the other. And if this doesn't tell you enough, to those incredulous who saw me searching between old cans and used clothes- let me tell you, I don't look in garbage. I only find what lawfully belongs to me as well as what it won't be for me, but for that unfortunate who will rejoice with happiness for having found in me, what he never found in himself. With that being said, I say to you: blessed be the poets of my time, because these days, the mind opens to the reality of the world with a speed that annihilates in our beings - the fear to the unknown. And with that - flows without current, the blood that gives life to a human being as if it was a mother in labor: pushing and screaming with all her might until the father faints for having seen his child being born. So Blessed be the poets of my times because they open up to the reality of life with an unknown maturity, but unfortunate be those for closing up to the imagination of my words.

Written by L.L.

---------------------

This was written in Spanish in a moment of inspiration. It's not exactly what I'm used to writing, but since this just came out of nowhere, I thought it would be okay to post it. Perhaps someone could figure out what this means. I'm not too happy with the translation, there are some parts that don't seem to give me the same feeling nor meaning as in the spanish version.