Vete destino

Pasa el tiempo
Pasa largo
No son mías las horas
Si no del destino

Sucio, impuro...
Era mi destino
Me escupió mil horas de insomnio
Me dejó tirada al costado de mi propia ruta

Mi propio destino
Me traicionó con suspiros
Me desgarró mis vestidos
Pesados, harapientos, me esperan en aquel placard

No voy a volver a buscarlos
Espero un águila

Vete destino

Pasa el tiempo
Pasa largo
No son mías las horas
Si no del destino

Sucio, impuro...
Era mi destino
Me escupió mil horas de insomnio
Me dejó tirada al costado de mi propia ruta

Mi propio destino
Me traicionó con suspiros
Me desgarró mis vestidos
Pesados, harapientos, me esperan en aquel placard

No voy a volver a buscarlos
Espero un águila

Buscando algo útil

Soy como un gusano inmovil
Féretro, podrido por dentro
Me pesa cada poro
(de esta existencia que quisiera olvidar)
Me pesa cada gota que ahueca esta mejilla

Estoy aprendiendo a sentir mis pies
Veo que las uñas estan rojas
Y los talones desgastados

Cada rincón de mí, hoy se mueve diferente
"Nos estamos reacomodando"
Le explico a mi cuerpo

Buscando algo útil

Soy como un gusano inmovil
Féretro, podrido por dentro
Me pesa cada poro
(de esta existencia que quisiera olvidar)
Me pesa cada gota que ahueca esta mejilla

Estoy aprendiendo a sentir mis pies
Veo que las uñas estan rojas
Y los talones desgastados

Cada rincón de mí, hoy se mueve diferente
"Nos estamos reacomodando"
Le explico a mi cuerpo

When you are old, by William Butler Yeats

WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;


How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true;

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face.


And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead,

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars

When you are old, by William Butler Yeats

WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;


How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true;

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face.


And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead,

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars

Phenomenal Woman, by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size

But when I start to tell them,

They think I'm telling lies.

I say,

It's in the reach of my arms

The span of my hips,

The stride of my step,

The curl of my lips.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.



I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.

I say,

It's the fire in my eyes,

And the flash of my teeth,

The swing in my waist,

And the joy in my feet.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.



Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can't touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them

They say they still can't see.

I say,

It's in the arch of my back,

The sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts,

The grace of my style.

I'm a woman



Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.



Now you understand

Just why my head's not bowed.

I don't shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud.

When you see me passing

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It's in the click of my heels,

The bend of my hair,

the palm of my hand,

The need of my care,

'Cause I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Phenomenal Woman, by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size

But when I start to tell them,

They think I'm telling lies.

I say,

It's in the reach of my arms

The span of my hips,

The stride of my step,

The curl of my lips.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.



I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.

I say,

It's the fire in my eyes,

And the flash of my teeth,

The swing in my waist,

And the joy in my feet.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.



Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can't touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them

They say they still can't see.

I say,

It's in the arch of my back,

The sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts,

The grace of my style.

I'm a woman



Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.



Now you understand

Just why my head's not bowed.

I don't shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud.

When you see me passing

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It's in the click of my heels,

The bend of my hair,

the palm of my hand,

The need of my care,

'Cause I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.