Quiero pasar pisando fuerte por la vida | I want to go walking strongly through life

A horcajadas, si hace falta,

hollando la tierra,

metiendo un pie tras otro en la nieve

y volver por el sendero
resiguiendo los pasos

con los que vine.

Quiero pasar pisando fuerte por la vida

ultrajándolo todo,

quebrantándonos un poco,

profanando las leyes más básicas por las que nos regimos,

abatiendo la injusticia

abrazando de frente al miedo,

insiriéndome en la confusión e incertidumbre,

e ir a veces caminando,

solo eso,
caminando,

despacio pero fuerte,

por la vida.

Volver, siempre volver,

sobre mis pasos,

dibujar cenefas

en la nieve, en la arena o en el hielo

con los pies descalzos,

en la arena blanca de una nieve que resbala,

como mis manos dibujan la espuma en el Mediterráneo,

y volver,

retornar a mis pasos

pisando fuerte,

siempre,

en la vida.

(English version)

Astride, if necessary,

treading the land,

putting one foot after another in the snow

and get back on the path
refollowing the steps

I came with.

I want to go stomping through life

outraging everything,

smashing us lightly,

profaning the most basic laws by which we rule over,

taking down the injustice

embracing and facing the fear

inserting myself in the confusion and the uncertainty.

and to go sometimes walking,

only that,
walking,

slowly, but strong,

through life.

Coming back, always coming back,

over my steps

and draw trimmings

on the snow, on the sand or on the ice

with my bare feet,

on the white sand of a slippery snow,

just as my hands draw the foam in the Mediterranean sea,

and coming back,

returning to my steps

stepping strong,

always,

in life.

White box bridal city: bites and pinches

*It can be read from the beginning to the end or backwards (although there isn’t a backward way of reading it, both path readings are different, but one is not more important than the other).

            I

Winnipeg:

two rivers dreaming,

a river of blood guzzling stones.

            II

Winnipeg,

white box city,

it feels like a dream and it does not stop.

            III

Winnipeg,

this white long box city:

two shadows by the streetlight at night,

one sideways shadow in the afternoon,

any shadows in the dawn.

            IV a

Winnipeg,

white toy city:

a river disappearing into the other,

a glass that explodes in your hand

and doesn’t cut your skin enough to make you bleed,

            IV b

Winnipeg,

white toy city:

a river devouring another,

snowflakes penetrating the garbage.

            Between IVb and V

The most difficult task, and the easiest,
is to stay alive and to keep breathing
in this city, everywhere.
It does not matter where, but why and how.

            V

Winnipeg,

white bridal city:

a river that flows into the course of another river,

calmly.

            VI

Winnipeg,

white bridal city:

at the exact point where the two rivers meet,

the bridal gown becomes the snow

that covers their freezing.

            VII

Winnipeg,

white box bridal toy city.

Beyond the edge of this city

everything is full of nothing.

Plenitude is made of small pieces of vacuity.

             VIII

Winnipeg,

white box bridal toy city,

one last time.

The sky that runs from all the edges

and twinkles

and storms and shut up sometimes.

          LAST

I wish 

my self

was still

melting in the snow,

melting in your mouth,

stopping the flow of the sky.