Estaba caminando en la calle de
La ciudad eterna, siguiendo cuando
Vi que no había letreros para guiarme-
“¿Qué estaban los arquitectos pensando?”
Pienso. Y los viajeros caminan más, más
En ignorancia, pero son bastantes
Feliz aunque no saben, que está atrás,
Ni que está a los lados, ni adelantes.
No me importa que están haciendo ellos
Porque viajan como ovejas, yo solo,
Y solamente yo decido que me creo,
Así yo se adonde voy, y yo se como.
Realizó que estos no serían fuertes
Porque todas las calles van a Muerte.
Rough translation for the meaning:
ReplyDeleteAll Roads Lead to the Eternal City
I was walking in the streets of
The Eternal City, just walking when
I saw that there were no signs to guide me-
"What were the architects thinking?"
I wonder. And the travelers walk more, more
In ignorance but they are happy
Enough even though they don't know what's behind
Nor at their sides, nor in front of them.
It doesn't matter to me what they do
Because they travel as sheep, and I alone,
And only I decide what I believe
SO I know where I'm going, and I know how.
I realized that the signs* would make no difference
Because all roads lead to Death.
*This could also refer to the other travelers.
I love it dude.
ReplyDeleteIt blows my two spanish poems out of the water.