Pabellón Séptimo (relato de Horacio)

I'm suffocating! God!
I think about my face
My face is burning now, God!
An explosion
And the mattresses catch fire and we burn alive

I want to get out, I want to escape
The doors remain locked
The pavilion in a second
Everything blurred and we can't see anything else

I try to climb up to a window
Looking for air and they shoot me fiercely
Old lady, love, daughters, and friends
Look for news at the door, out there

Some time later, I still hear
The crazy noise of the guards
Looking for loose tiles
Where we hide treasure and miseries

Poor thing! Poor Cebolla
He couldn't take it anymore, he slit his throat out of fear
No one is capable (they can't erase my memories!)
No one is capable of killing you in my soul

And that's how they give it to you, that's how they break you
That's how they fuck you, just like that
That time, the Old Harvester came for me
And she didn't want to kiss my life

I'm wounded, I'm burned
I'm on a stretcher through Salaberry
I'm going to try to behave here
To escape before my lungs give out

If something is going to happen to me
I want it to be in freedom, out there

And nothing else, to leave and nothing else
I don't want to see any more thick key rings
Or look at the wall if the guard yells
To cover moans and laments

Never again!
Never again!
And I will never forget you, Pablo, never!