Tyrant
Where are you going, tyrant, with your shadow?
With your delusions of grandeur. Withered mind.
With your painful life. Without glory. Maligned.
That tortured and poor voice that you disallow.
Where will you go? Where you go with your torment?
Where are you go with your whip, with your cold wind?
With your dark soul and miserly. Your gait twined.
Your walk without light, clarity or consent?
Where are you going? There is no cavity!
There is not a dwelling for you, only hell.
Where are you going? Ask myself. Where will dwell?
Where will you go without light or clarity?
Where? You dealt cruelly with humanity.
The shadows come for you. It sounds deadly bell.
Sonnet to Shakespeare
This is a sonnet with characteristics of use in Spanish language.
It differs from the English sonnet in its 11 syllables.
Long time of daily routine and suffering
step into my bedroom. But you oh! Shakespeare,
my good, faithful friend. Sweetens my rough nightmare.
My life acquires meaning. Magic beauty brings.
The peace of mind that I desire. He is spring
that offers freshness. Great wealth in his gift shares
and words like diamonds to my wandering
dream. He is a sigh, laugh. Kiss for the soul. Care.
I salute you now with my humble sonnet.
Your pen speaks to me with the voice of Prophet.
In different language is the same passion.
Immersed with magic sweetness in my poet's heart.
Oh!, master. Preacher of the beautiful art.
A delight in time of great satisfaction.
Will I be forever slave?
Oh! Splendid Master
Oh splendid Master that bring movement!
Worker bee. Support of the History.
Emblem, martyr and victory!
Skillful in the anvil and forge greatness.
Great artist of the monument.
You confronts fame and glory.
From your thinking and memory.
You share the well-crafted.
Great worker of the plowed land.
Soldier of the chisel. Your hand
heroic, creative and peaceful.
Blessed hammer that you wield!
Blessed hand which never yields!
Eternal creator. Shrewd and menseful
Why won't you release me of this torment?
This torment of which I'm prisioner.
I'm a wanderer in my own world.
Wandering the harmful desert
of my tormented life.
I'll be yours or I'll not be nothing.
Since I have you and I don't have you.
I know it sounds strange, butyour figure crosses
through my mindas images of Casanova's film.
And this reality...
It's awful to wake upwithout you next to me...
Only with the arrival of another figure
in my mind, your silhouette fadesaway.
And it comes another imagesless graceful,
less genteel,
less clear...
Sonett to wine
It comes from grape harvest to the table
This rich and good wine, pleasant sip fruity
It brings from the vine its freshness its beauty.
With delight, rich wine, brings joy and be able
of tweaking the sadness and bring the good new.
Bring joy! Vanquish every tear from our eyes.
To drink glorifying each day. And supply
of calm our life and awake up to the dew
Will be little thing that write with muy low pen.
Will always be little what I write again.
Will be little what I sing in my happy night.
Because you're in my sad hours the company
Because you're part of my crazy destiny.
For you, good wine, I write my sonnet tonight!