Número 15, Año 4, Agosto - Octubre 1999
EL HAMBRE DE NADA
Por: Michelle White (hunger)
Bajo el halo de fuego de la deidad nocturna,
recuerdo que mal nutre la esperanza,
sueños que ávidamente se engolosinan con memorias,
pasión desgastada por el desamor,
la insalubre convicción de encontrarme
con la detestable añoranza de tu calor,
la desdichada sorpresa
que aguarda detrás del mágico telón
de la raquítica actuación
de dos enamorados que ya no lo son
I dreamed I was in a great banquet,
enjoying the feast of life,
spinning the wheel of fortune,
confident that I was no wasted existence,
pretending I had no need to hear or
let me be heard
I became thoughtless, speecheless, deaf and blind;
witnessing mysef being not being.
A ton of excuses won't heal;
lethargy is the sound sleep
in wich I believed dreams
were meant never to come true
Sudenly my life began to spin vertignously,
and in my confusion I saw myself
devouring my own flesh and
toasting with my own blood
and suddenly realised dreams do come true.