The key is to see through the same hole
where the stealth light enters
that light that dazzles the eye
that they see us because they will not even know themselves.
These are the square houses like block niches
with windows, some small, others high between trees
that only stand out while in place
who forgot his own name sounds the violencello
and the guitar that cries his love that left.
There is still like an arrow
upwards the Most High Door
of the Most Holy Church where the Virgin is sailing
without even making a face,
What does that mean that they swore before the Holy Bible?
and now they enter and leave the temple still sinners;
what will he say about those furtive merchants
come from others who make their august
here under the complacent gaze
of those who sold their souls to the Devil
for thirty devalued coins.
What will the son of the earth think, charlatan?
by office, councilor or deputy, so-called ruler
or merchant, who steals what the people
Does not have to give the good life between luxury, drums and cymbals?
What will the thief politician say,
the corrupt swindlers who deceived us,
the one that lives of the rancid policy,
covered in fluff, with patch and hook
who speaks here and there with impudence
and throws the hook into the coffers full of coins
while talking about honesty and justice
as principles of a converted revolution
in pretext to plunder, swindle, kill a hungry people?
What the hell the priest who blesses the corrupt?
And the truth of his god in silence?
What will the hen, the sold-out accomplice, the food dealer say,
from the one who sells the cash
and bulks the prices to get rich
a coast of the needs of the people?
