Poems

Rain

If it rains
my friends will be stuck at home
in the old shoes
of their dead
The gate of the city is closed
column by column
the obsolescence of the city
breaks in their mouth
 
-
 
We have hidden
our own dead
in the cellar
waiting for the revenge day
under boxes of gunpoweder
under the old ancestral rage
 
If the rains come the day of revenge will be postponed again
 
Rain is a crime
which will fade the hopes of the people
If rain falls
it will clean my blood
from the streets