Puntillas de Auroras Tristes

Lace of sad dawns,
cotton of foam in the air.
Pain of knowing that I exist,
when the afternoon ends.
Sadness of being just,
a shadow that burns
and in the hot night freeze me,
just freeze me.

Pigsty of tenement,
den of traffickers
Market without municipality,
changing needs
Patron of poor blankets,
where the flesh curdles
Walls of dirty color,
stained with soot and mate.

Where hope dies,
another love is born that doesn't beat
To hell with the blues,
which he rarely likes

For every time I vomit,
I walk stepping in the air
for every reason I seek,
I find needs.

For not knowing when it's never,
I don't have never or when,
The same law that condemns,
sometimes ties the horse

I have the charity,
of being cotton on the nail
hanging on the wall,
witness of the brawl

Lace of sad dawns,
cotton of foam in the air.
Pain of knowing that I exist,
when the afternoon ends.
Sadness of being just,
a shadow that burns,
and in the hot night,
freeze me, just freeze me.