Regreso de la montana espaciana

Regreso de la voz, del edificio
Regreso de la voz, de la manera
Que supo dar a luz por vez primera
Que supo ser cabal desde el inicio

Regreso de los fuegos de artificio
Regreso del rugir de oscura fiera
Asi la vida nos viene desde fuera
Asi la muerte ejerce fiel su oficio

Oh espiritu poetico que cura
Oh espiritu tanatico que duele
Oh espiritu que en suenos ya perdura

Verso volcanico en medio de la nieve
Verso que llora, sangra y suda
Verso del combatiente cuando muere

Morning in May

Morning in May: what a delight!
The grass is green, the sun is bright
and as the train speeds past the canal
this sight is good for my morale.

Just then I see a smoke column rise
and the blue sky in two slice
power station, standing tall
it makes me feel so very small

Arrival into London Euston

The playground, bare
The old park lane
The biking postie
The bowling green and its small pavillion
The cranes supporting tall structures
Amidst the rows of terraced houses
- A brand new stadium in the background
The grey, red blue tube train carriages
Heading for their first tunnel of the day
The playground, bare
The church spire
The train, reluctantly slows down
The signs that greet the Northern visitor
- A spray-paint job, proclaiming "hello, shitbag"
Grey pigeons on the grey platform
Forever under cover
The rush of people into the concourse and down the escalators
Scrambling for change or for an Oyster card or for the shortest queue
The silent journey into a packed underground
The bustling square with its enormous lions
And large numbers of pigeons