Every day
the sun that once fed the forest
dries and crackles the clay,
and the rains that once quenched its thirst
wash the crumbs away.

The flesh and bones of the perished
slowly decay into dust,
and ruined expanses of cities
gradually crumble and rust.

The dust of all that we were
turns back to blood in the streams
as our fragile memorials to greed
get swept away with our dreams.

The scars that we left on the land
are washed anew by the slurry
as the remnants of the wronged
swallow the sins of the buried.
We who remain cling to rocks
slowly forgetting our past.
Forgetting what we have lost.
The echoes of songs do not last.

This is what it will take,
for we who have lost our way,
to remember who we are,
the children of light, water, and clay.

 
La Madre

Asesino! Tán voluble tu camino.
Paso a paso, sin reposo ni destino.
Por furor a Dioses desdeñados me sacrificas en mi proprio altar.
Qué haces? Si no abres los ojos cuando entierras tu puñal.
No valores tánto tu poder, que más valor tiene mi sangre!

 
The Mother (translation)

Murderer! So volatile is your path.
Your steps know not rest nor destination.
Blinded with furor over gods that you neglect, you sacrifice me in my own altar.
Why is it, you drive your dagger without opening your eyes.
Don’t revel so much in your power, when my blood is far more valuable.

 
El Quinto Cuarto

Entre ruinas y escombros duerme el cuento del jardín.
La cuna donde cresistes sin reproches ni temores.
Hasta el día que entre las flores tú quisistes mas de mí.
Me picastes en cuatro partes y me vendistes por las esquinas.
Y ahora, entre estas ruinas, donde arrancastes el ultimo esparto,
anhelas mi sueño enterrado y el retoño, del quinto cuarto.

 
The Fifth Fourth (translation)

Among ruins and remnants lies the story of the garden.
The cradle were you were nurtured without guilts or fears.
Until the day within the flowers when you wanted more from me.
You tore me into four parts and you sold me in the street corners.
And now among these ruins where your pulled out the last plant,
you long for the buried dream and the regrowth, from the fifth fourth.