Tell me who betrayed you infidel children,
Who are your brothers?
Your land cries for you,
Where their ancestors,
In love with their wounds,
They mourned their children in the wind.
From the high seas,
The screams of the shadows are heard,
In their woody tombs,
Bathed by the tears of the forgotten.
Oh! Heavy death,
They gather in the oceans the flowers of pain,
In its fetid scent of horrors,
Under the agony of shrill cries,
Between silence and sighs,
While the human demons,
They devour bodies in their insanities.
This one....
Fate of pain and suffering,
Torments of a deflowered caste,
In the nefarious minds of their masters.
Tell me who you thought you were infidels!
Who kill their children,
By the strangeness of his hands,
Filled with blood and heartbreak,
Parading cursed riches,
Between cold smiles,
Just like their dark souls.
From the caravels the mourning,
Wild fruits of inveterate hearts,
Prophecy of Tolerated Liberties,
Between the centuries of decayed faces.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem