..Etterath..

But alas, they say life grants dreams to poets in excess, no, life never gives you anything free, into deep misery turns each my tiniest joy.

Shall I tell you about my spirit, full of anguish, Or the hardships that I have endured during exile? Have you the courage to stay when my soul sinks into sorrow, Or shall we talk of you, not speaking of my despair?

“Remembered landscapes are left in me

Quemé todos los barcos los incendié, les puse lumbre,                                         volteé hacia atrás                                                                         solo para confirmar que el fuego seguía vivo