Maldigo del Alto Cielo

I curse from the high sky
The star with its reflection
I curse the tiles
Flashes from the stream
I curse from the low ground
The stone with its outline
I curse the fire from the oven
Because my soul is in mourning

I curse the statutes
Of time with its embarrassments
How deep will my pain be?

I curse the mountain range
Of the Andes and the coast
I curse the narrow
And long strip of land
Also peace and war
The straightforward and the fickle
I curse the fragrant
Because my longing is dead

I curse everything that's certain
And the false with the doubtful
How deep will my pain be?

I curse the spring
With its blooming gardens
And autumn, the color
I truly curse it
And the passing cloud
I curse it so much
Because I suffer a heartbreak
I curse the whole winter

With the sincere summer
I curse the sacred and the profane
My pain will be great

I curse the solitary
Figure of the flag
I curse any emblem
Venus and the Araucaria
The song of the canary
I curse the cosmos with its planets
The earth and all its cracks
Because I am troubled by sorrow

I curse the wide sea
Its ports and its coves
My pain will be great

I curse the moon and the landscape
The towns and the deserts
I curse the dead for being dead
And the living from king to page
The birds with their plumage
I curse them cold-blooded
The classrooms, the sacristies
Because I am afflicted by pain

I curse the word love
With all its witchcraft
How deep will my pain be?

I finally curse the white
The black with the yellow
Bishops and altar boys
Ministers and preachers
I curse them while singing
The free and the imprisoned
The sweet and the quarrelsome
I lay my curse

In Greek and in Spanish
Because of a traitor
How deep will my pain be?