Equipaje

Much I carry and more I don't want
already complete my luggage,
a love the color of the sky
and a rancor the color of blood.
A surplus of tenderness
that had no one to stay with
and a pain that for constant
did not want to leave me.

It is already very heavy for those who do not have
nor a friendly song to ease the pain,
nor a smile that waits in the afternoon,
nor a hope to come back.
It would be easier to walk if in my luggage
I would carry a remnant of illusion, a dream.
But your hands, without mercy, broke all the dreams of my heart.
all the dreams of my heart.

Sad burden I carry,
through life, down the street.
Useless ballast of memories,
Bitter kiss of a failure.
The pain of a hundred endeavors
unraveled in my hand.
And this clumsy thought
that pushes me towards rancor.