Entre equinoccios y solsticios,
soñaremos con el despertar de las plantas a la belleza,
la conjunción de sol y arena,
la caída de la piel azafranada de Natura,
las cosechas encestadas
con sus verdes, amarillos y rojizos aromas,
la recia juntura de aguas y heladas,
incomparables ocasos y amaneceres…

Dime, buena esperanza,
¿tocaremos con nuestros curiosos dedos
tu inefable perfección?
o ¿seguiremos avistando tu fluir a través de una ventana,
viendo calles solitarias o
viendo pasar personas
con el rostro asustado y las palabras forradas?

Dime que no, Cronos de la misericordia,
Dime que no a esa última incógnita…

Fuente

English version:

With your belly agualuz, O fortune,
you will be able to ride the new hours,
marking every second and every minute
of your twelve waves and their sway,
smiling at hope, there are plenty of dreams:

Tell me, good fortune,
the Kings will come to bring us
Incense, myrrh or gold?
You will weave a carnival of a thousand colors,
With the Queen of Cups or the Queen of Gold?
Tell me, desired destination,
we will walk the viacrucis,
At the hands of the King of Wands or the King of Swords?

Between equinoxes and solstices,
we will dream of the awakening of the plants to beauty,
the conjunction of sun and sand,
the fall of Natura's saffron skin,
the baskets of the crops
with its green, yellow and reddish aromas,
the strong water and frost junction,
incomparable sunsets and sunrises...

Tell me, good hope,
Will we touch with our curious fingers
your ineffable perfection?
Or will we continue to watch you flow through a window,
seeing lonely streets or
watching people pass by
with a frightened face and covered words?

Tell me no, Cronus of Mercy,
Say no to that last question...