Adriano Nunes: "Garatzazyn and his pigs" - To Alberto Lins Caldas

"Garatzazyn and his pigs" - To Alberto Lins Caldas

Everything stinks
Inside Garatzazyn's thoughts.
Melancholy,
Crude joy,
Dense desires!
Everything stinks too much
Even this toil which
Shows itself light
Sometimes. Awakened
Pigsty emits squeaks
Beyond infinite.
Oh, Pigs scream
Out for Garatzazyn!
That is his life, so,
Prudish and greasy.

His dreams are already
Mud and crud,
Dirt and patch,
Sweat and tapeworms.
His pigs scream out
Looking for patience.
Stench is nothing.
Rotten faeces is
Nothing. Today
Is nothing. Whiff
Of hope cannot find
His feisty heart,
His foolish mind.
Garatzazyn mingles with
His strange pigs.

He does not know if
He likes to meagle
With the ready meat
For scrapping. What does this
Man dressing colored shirt
And old and cheap jeans
Know about himself, my Lord?
His hopeless pigs scream out,
They are frightened
And know when
They will take him for scrapping!
His grim pigs have pity
On Garatzazyn.
They are afraid that he bleeds
And does not die as a pig,

Everything stinks
Inside Garatzazyn's thoughts.
There is no way
To clean up this horror
From himself.
The novelty is
Futile and catty!
His hungry pigs whisper
About Garatzazyn.
They know that he has sharp teeth
Which devour himself
Sometimes, when he can do it,
When sated hyenas go away,
Every dawn
His curious pigs gossip.

They know ax and
Continuous disregard.
From clay to simian
Life has had a shape.
He jumps this fence
And his pain, again.
Garatzazyn jumps over
His atavistic team.
It is now! It is now!