Protexido polo valo de madeira
Avanza agachado axexando
O poderoso tigre do desexo
Levanto o brazo sinto o peso
Da lanza coa punta aceirada
Debecendo por trazar a parábola
de sangue no eixo do X
Sen que me tivese decatado
Agora é un rato vello espeluxado
Que mordeu no veleno da vida
Non precisa xa de traxectoria
De voo para a chegada da morte
Cae a lanza pesada aos pes
Comezo a elevarme lixeiro
A fibela da bota engancha no andel
O mantel de gancho, guinda no chan
As miñas pálidas figuras de porcelana
Amuletos que termaban da raiz do aire
Escachan e deixan o cuarto en ruínas
Mighty tiger
Protected by the wooden fence progresses crouching, lurking, the mighty tiger of desire. I raise my arm and feel the weight of the spear with the steel spearhead longing for the parabola of blood on the X axis
Unbeknownst to me, it is now an old, disheveled mouse that has bitten into the poison of life. It’s no longer needed a flight path for the arrival of death
The heavy spear falls to my feet, I begin to rise lightly, the buckle of the boot catches the crochet tablecloth on the shelf, my pale porcelain figures fall to the floor, amulets that were holding the root of the air, break into pieces and leave the room in ruins
abel abilheira 