There is no such paradise, companion.
They sometimes erase all dreams
such
that finally we are what we are:
hypocrites, misers, invalids
who return from old sieges
with a medallion under the arm
in search of the Pawn Shop.
The memory, at times, drips
blood fallen in the dawn.
Copyright 2006 by Gabriel Impaglione. Translated
by Ron Hudson and Maria G. Piccini..
No hay tal paraiso, compa–ero.
Se desvanecen los
sue–os cada tanto
y resulta que somos lo que somos:
hip—critas, hambrientos, inv‡lidos
que vuelven de viejas trincheras
con una medalla bajo el brazo
en busca del Banco de Empe–os.
La memoria, a veces, gota
de sangre ca’da en el crepœsculo.
Copyright 2006 by Gabriel Impaglione.