My Love

 

My Love

 

Today I dare to write only about him

Him? Yes, only about him.

What happened to those

Who promulgated it, defended it

And at the same time lived it?

Where have they gone?

 

Why do we only see souls suffering

In the nauseating habitation of hate,

The hypocrisy, the disordered passion,

And the desire to satisfy the innermost whims,

Rough and disrespectful that may arise

From the satanic mansion,

Covered with overwhelming darkness,

Terrifying and distressing,

Situated in the deepest depths

Of the secret labyrinths of their hearts?

 

Yes

Why today?

It is today that fear is born in me to be,

Fear of being trapped

By a cloud of not knowing, of incoherence,

Dichotomy and truthful opposition of the reality

That overwhelms the mass of my fellow men.

 

Am I the only one who sees it?

Am I the only one who can feel with my heart

As if it were with my hands

The non-existence of it in the hearts

Of young children and old people

Who lie in the depths of despair

 

Searching for a multitude of phenomena and complements

That can satiate that emptiness

That day after day plunges them into the sea of unhappiness?

No.

I know. I am not the only one to notice it,

To see it, to feel it, to desire it, to long for it.

 

She despite living in the comforts

Of passion and wanting,

She longs in her heart

To meet the true essence of him (she notices it too).

 

Only in a sentimental exchange

Where he is the mediator and director,

Can one live without fear of being abandoned.

 

They, deliberately intend to satiate all their desires,

To drown in the sea of passion their longing for love,

But in the end, at the end of the day,

In the depths of their hearts,

They intend, someday, to find the net existence of him;

To live, without the fear of being forgotten,

Mocked or rather "encachonados" (mocked).

 

Recognizing that only he

Can keep their miserable lives from suffering

Without hope, true consolation,

Genuine satisfaction and best of all, to live in peace,

Harmony, yes, happiness.

 

I have changed my vision, I do not write of my passion,

But of reality, not of my happiness, but, of my sadness.

Not of my joy, but, of my sorrows.

Today I write it because I can't take it anymore,

I will not be the same, we all see, we all think;

I don't want to be the same, but as time goes by,

Unconsciously, we are trapped in the same fatality (life without him).

 

 

But it's over, yes, it's over

What's over?

The silence is over,

The fear is over, why?

Because he sustains me, because

I have met him.

 

I have it here, I can feel it,

He's vibrating in my being.

Yes. It is love, only it can guide,

He alone can make you happy.

 

Only he can free from the reinforced chains

That imprison the hearts.

Preventing the happy existence of each individual

With desire to love, to be loved

Today I raise my writing voice

 

Perhaps in a desert of verses

That wish to be heard.

 

Moreover, with the same rigor with which was

Our flag was raised in honor

To freedom.

I will pronounce with all

The forces that are unleashed from the heart,

It is love that I want,

 

Make no mistake

 

It is not passion, it is not desire, it is not want,

It is not illusion, it is not whim, no, no and no,

It is the driving force, it is the engine of life.

 

It is the reason for existence, it is Love,

Love. Yes, only love.

 

If you who were chosen don't dare,

Coward you will be, Coward you will feel.

When you read the statements of these simple verses.

 

Perhaps you'll think, he's a frustrated poet,

But in spite of everything, I want to tell you, I love you.

And not with the self-interested love you know.

It's not the vile passion, it's not desire, it's not wanting,

It's not illusion, it's not caprice, no, no and no.

 

I pity the world

That does not know how to love, that does not let itself love,

That does not seek to love.

You who have always loved,

It's time, it's time, it's time,

Time to love, to love, yes, to love.

 

End point and end of the game,

Love, that's what I want.

Checkmate, let no one be frightened, I don't just love you,

Not only do I long for you, and at the end of the verses,

If you truly love, you'll read it again.

 

Even if you are in the thickest darkness of the everlasting grave,

My verses are so accurate, they make holes in the brain.

         They create a freedom, That to your conscience they will subjugate, and tell you: 

Love, love, love, is what I want.