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LOVE IN LETTERS

It's hard to live without love,
but sometimes there are miracles.
Feel the cloud of my love,
that sweet and vaporous love.
Let me whisper love to you,
let it be very heavy,
and fill you with my sweet love.
Open your soul and feel me,
between the lines, I will be there,
you and I, and my cloud of love.
A cloying love for you,
love shared in letters.
Poems that melt away,
words to make you fall in love.
That breeze that will fill everything,
hearts that find each other.
Connecting souls, in the air,
in the little heaven of love,
Poems to imagine clouds,
in the sky of love, words,
created and thought to love you.
Discover my secret passion,
you and I alone, always together.
Traveling through verses in love,
in overflowing torrents of love,
between you and me, the secret of love.
In letters, in wrapped whispers,
that love always at hand,
in the moon of love and stars.
Poems to create the magic,
in the fantasy of softness,
Let yourself float in sweet love,
in the softness of feathers,
feathers of love that fly.
Spread your wings and rise to love,
between words and suns, love.
Love in spilled drops,
in my letters for you, my love,
my still unknown love.


-----
AMOR EN LETRAS

Es duro sin vivir sin el amor,
pero a veces hay milagros.
Siente la nube de mi amor,
ese dulce y vaporoso amor.
Deja que te susurre amor,
deja que sea muy pesado,
y te llené de mi dulce amor.
Abre tu alma y siénteme,
entre líneas ahi voy a estar,
tú y yo, y mi nube de amor.
Amor empalagoso para ti,
amor compartido en letras.
Poemas que se deshacen,
palabras para enamorarte.
Esa brisa que lo llenará todo,
corazones que se encuentran.
Conectando alma, en el aire,
en el pequeño cielo del amor,
Poemas para imaginar nubes,
en el cielo del amor, palabras,
creadas pensadas para amarte.
Descubre mi pasión secreta,
tú y yo solos, siempre juntos.
Recorriendo versos enamorados,
en torrentes derramados de amor,
entre tú y yo, el secreto del amor.
En letras, en susurros envueltos,
ese amor que siempre a mano,
en  la luna del amor y estrellas.
Poemas para crear  la magia,
en la fantasía de la suavidad,
Déjate flotar en el dulce amor,
en la suavidad de las plumas,
plumas del amor que vuelan.
Saca tus alas  y sube al amor,
entre palabras y soles, amor.
Amor en gotas derramadas,
en mis letras para ti, mi amor,
mi amor desconocido aún.


----
https://youtu.be/g5bvjUrVObk?si=S9eTAA4FYm9L6UX2

Smokey Robinson - Just To See Her
LUX
LUX
LUX


Lux.
Light,
lights,
measures,
illuminating,
measures of light.
Light as a luxury,
discovering the rays,
warm flows and cold flows,
corseting the light's rays,
measuring everything to infinity.

Poems of light that cannot be measured,
in the eyes, the light that unveils us,
new visions in natural light, or not.
In the sky's rays that cannot be grasped,
in solar storms, a volcano of light,
in the luxury of measuring the light that surrounds us.
Poems of light and darkness within you,
slipping lumens into your night,
sources of light in our lives,
it is the luxury of light,
that illuminates us,
in poems
sometimes.

Lights
of
art.
Lux,
luxuries,
lumen,
luminous,
­those lights,
flows of light,
that make us shine.
Perceived
radiation,
in life,
natural
or not,
just
light.
--
3-VIII-2025


---

LUX


Lux.

Luz,

luces,

medidas,

iluminando,

medidas de luz.

La luz como un lujo,

descubriendo los rayos,

Flujos cálidos y flujos fríos,

encorsetando los rayos de luz,

midiendo todo hasta el infinito.



Poemas de luz que no se miden,

en los ojos, la luz que nos desvela,  

nuevas miradas en la luz natural o no.

En los rayos de cielo que no se abarcan,

en las tormentas solares, un volcán de luz,

en el lujo de medir la luz que nos rodea.

Poemas de luz y de tinieblas en ti,

deslizando lúmenes en tu noche,

fuentes de luz en las vidas,

es el lujo de la luz,

que nos ilumina,

en poemas

a veces.



Luces

de

arte.

Lux,

lujos,

lumen,

luminoso,

esas luces,

flujos de luz,

que nos lucen.

Percibida

radiación,

en la vida,

naturales

o no,

solo

luz.
METALANGUAGE

Allow me to pass by your side,
and I will tell you some truths,
truths you won't hear,
Ears closed,
brain censored,
a world of lies.

It's you and me in the world,
that world of cruel newspeak,
where they are offended by hearing the truths.
Where you listen to what's programmed,
the metalanguage of the fake,
that which sounds good.

Where they tell you,
many beautiful things,
the opposite of the truth.
If they say it's for your own good,
they're telling you it's for their own good,
a lot of empty words,
look at what the preachers do,
and you'll see that everything has stopped adding up.

If they **** you, they'll say it's for your own good,
that the planet is sinking because you're alive.
A world where darkness engulfs us,
where everything is eugenics, it's the right to die,
rights go down the stairs.
And you will be poorer and poorer,
don't listen, better close your eyes,
and then it will be too late
for you to live.

Lies,
everything is a lie,
they don't want you to think,
everything is bizarre, everything is a game,
a game of agendas to **** you.
In the name of freedom, they enslave you,
in the name of security, they will tie you up,
deaf, blind, programmed.

For everyone,
hollow brains,
don't complain,
if they **** you,
without you knowing it,
There is no one blinder,
more blind than one who doesn't know it,
in the name of science they will **** you,
agendas that are ***** games for everyone,
there is no one deafer than one who doesn't want to hear,
and there is no worse sick person than one who poisons themselves.

But you close your eyes and continue with your business,
because soon it's your final hour,
and you won't do anything,
inevitable.

Advance your clock,
it's time for the agendas,
that say one thing and do another.
And everything is nothing more than an endless lie,
in that world of the Great War of evil against everything.

In the name of what is correct, we won't go to hell,
a world where no one believes in anything,
bad times to be saved,
may God find us confessed.

Revealed times,
everything is discovered,
at the end of everything.

5-8-2025
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJAPDbeLVNw&list=OLAK5uy_k0VCb9lS3eUMu0zUufucnX6iQ75eD9euI&index=6
Les Chevaliers Du Declin · Veronique Riviere
MOMENT

A moment, a pile of moments,
a time to take a pause.
In an afternoon overwhelmed by resources,
pending resources, appeals,
the cassations, defense briefs,
so much work piled on the table.
A moment to stop life,
to take a breath of air,
a moment to breathe and live.
While the work piles up,
a moment to stop life.
A moment for a break,
among the lives hanging over us,
in those September jobs.

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/friends
Moments of Gold


In the heat of summer, warm skin.
In the cold of winter, among skins.
In the twilight of everyone's days,
day by day, floating in the gold of living.
In the spring of each day, walking,
among galaxies, among the air of the days.
In the autumn, among the leaves that fly,
between the cold and the heat, unwrapped,
opening the days to discover treasures.
Uncovering the gold that is in everything,
in every season everything vibrates for us,
golden moments to discover.
That time that engulfs and devours us,
those days with moments to discover.
Navigating the gold of being alive,
in the gold of knowing how to discover treasures,
in the chest of each day, pure gold.
In every season, everything to enjoy,
transmuting the days into richness,
the richness of turning everything into gold.
Golden days, precious moments,
in the magic of knowing how to look,
looking beyond the surfaces.
Beyond the limits, flying over,
climbing in the knowledge of living.
Transforming life into liquid gold.
Reconverting everything into treasures,



----

26 - VIII - 2025
In my summer, in my garden,
a wild garden deep inside,
inside of me, and in my home.
Among the green leaves,
my secret solace.
Between the city and me,
lies my intimate secret,
an oasis of cool.
Between four walls,
a slice of paradise.
Among my dreams,
dreams of the soul,
among my days.
There is a moment,
in that inner oasis,
that is pure happiness.
A garden just for me,
where no strangers tread.
Where everything is perfect,
at times I touch my heavens.
Among lilacs and trees,
roses, flowers always,
where life springs forth.
Among songs of life,
among greedy sparrows,
a bit of wilderness in the chaos.
In the great metropolis, flowers,
always green, in any season,
my small corner, exuberant.
A corner of life to revive me,
a garden no one sees, within me,
a garden that's in my patio,
a secret city nook.
Among my beautiful gardens I live.

---
En mi verano, en mi jardín,

jardín selvático dentro,

dentro de mí, y en casa.

Entre las verdes hojas,

mi secreto sosiego.

Entre la ciudad y yo,

hay mi secreto íntimo,

un oasis de frescor.

Entre cuatro muros,

un trozo de paraíso.

Entre mis sueños,

sueños del alma,

entre mis días.

Hay un momento,

en ese oasis interior,

que es pura felicidad.

Un jardín solo para mí,

donde no hay extraños.

Donde todo es perfecto,

a ratos toco mis cielos.

Entre lilos y árboles,

rosas, flores siempre,

donde brota la vida.

Entre cantos de vida,

entre gorriones golosos,

un poco de selva en el caos.

En la gran metrópolis, flores,

en cualquier época es verde,

exuberante mi pequeño rincón.

Un rincón de vida para revivirme,

un jardín que nadie ve, en mí,

un jardín que está en mi patio,

un rincón secreto de la ciudad.

Entre mis bellos jardines vivo.


---

18-6-2025
CADENCES

I got tired of making money,
too old to work,
I stopped thinking about how to make a living.
I told the traditional life to go to hell,
and I became a small being, and I left everything,
and I sway to my own rhythm.
Time and again, I've seen it all,
I live in my cadences,
that rhythm of my own.
And it was different,
that other me, entered,
and never left me.
I do what I want,
because I want little,
the future doesn't matter,
I've already been through a lot.
And now I am myself.
That's what I always was,
the child who never changed.
A small one who got tired of everything.
A heart that matured without knowing how.
That child who now plays with colorful words
who is that great unknown among those around him.
Now I play with everything and the moon smiles at me in the sky,
and you know, I stopped caring about how to live,
and what others say
everything slides off me.
Verses.

Gifts,

wrapped,

in air for you.

Bouquets of words,

to ****** hearts.
In my own nebula,
clouds of gas and dust,
throughout the cosmos of the world.
Floating in my constellation,
in my own black holes.
In my pupils, I hold a universe,
my soul a reflection of a world,
a world small and wondrous.

Among the nebulas of stars,
between my death and my rebirth,
nebulas of the heart.
Soul of nebula.
Only magic dust,
a microcosm,
my world is beautiful.

As beautiful as dust,
dust of stars, of suns,
floating for a moment far away.
Far from my withered body,
my soul reborn, reflecting my chaos.
A world where all is giant,
a chaos where all is minuscule.

A world of my own with rivers of tears,
where I weep stars in my brown eyes.
Among black holes, among constellations,
among my specters, among my clusters,
creating reflections of my own world.

Floating far from my limitations,
seeking the beauty in all,
among the nebulas of the soul,
within the gaze of my God.

Dreaming of the macro chaos,
between my micro chaos, among all,
flying beyond limitations.
In the sideral space of my soul, in my being,
I will enclose that world within a poem,
letting it lift me above the ground.

Let it lift me amidst the dust of life,
I will fly for a moment to distant galaxies,
transforming my stardust into alchemy.
It will turn the reflections of all magic
into a small poem of my universe,
as I dream of conquering limits,
and swimming untethered in the universe.
I will create a poem for you, friend,
a poem of celestial love.

----
Capturing life's nectar,
amidst circles of life,
savoring everything.
Life,
moments of life,
torrents of moments,
flowing rivers of life.
Savoring life's nectar,
floating between air and other waters,
waters of life, waters of blood, ocean waves.
While *** and death go hand in hand,
life and death, in the end, death will come and we will leave each other.
Everything flows, nothing dies, everything transforms ceaselessly,
intensely, life is a nectar where everything eventually ends.
In the end, we'll stop trifling and all be dust in the body,
while souls seek their way to the other side of the open door
NON SONO IL TUO FIUME

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-863906007

Non conosci il mio dolore,
non sono il tuo fiume,
lasciami.
Lascia,
lascia che io soffra,
lascia che il mio fiume scorra,
non sono il tuo fiume, non sono te.
Dimentica,
dimentica ogni cosa mia,
lascia che me ne vada lontano,
lontano da tutto, e che affoghi.
Lasciate che affoghi nella vita,
lasciate che tutto continui,
nel fiume sinuoso.
Non sono tuo,
lascia che il mio fiume continui,
lascia che il mio fiume scorra libero,
lascia che affoghi nelle sue acque.
Lascia che canti,
che canti in italiano,
che faccia le cose sbagliate, sono mie.
Lascia che abbia la mia vita.
Voglio sbagliare
la mia vita è così,
affogherò,
e sopravvivrò.
E il fiume scorrerà,
un altro giorno in calma,
dopo la tempesta,
delle mie acque.
È il mio fiume,
non sono il tuo fiume,
non sono tuo,
nel mio fiume.
vivo ancora,
vivo,
E se soffro,
è un bene,
perché così mi sento.
Mi sento così vivo galleggiando,
nella mia corrente d'acque
nelle acque del mio fiume,
che va e viene,
e se affogo,
tornerò a galla,
più forte,
Il dolore,
è parte,
di me.,
E poi,
canterò,
riderò forse.
nel mio fiume vivo.
E se canto, è un bene,
questa è la mia canzone d'acque,
acqua dei miei fiumi nelle mie vene.
Questo è il fiume della canzone della mia vita.



----

No sabes mi dolor,

no soy tu río,

déjame.

Deja,

deja que sufra,

deja que mi río corra,

no soy tu río, no soy tú.

Olvida,

olvida todo lo mío,

deja que me vaya lejos,

lejos de todo, y me ahogue.

Dejad que me hunda en la vida,

dejad que todo continúe,

en el río sinuoso.

No soy tuyo,

deja que siga mi río,

deja que corra mi río libre,

deja que me ahogue en sus aguas.

Deja que cante,

que cante en italiano,

que haga mal las cosas, son mías.

Deja que tenga mi vida.

Quiero equivocarme

es mi vida así,

me ahogaré,

y sobreviviré.

Y el río correrá,

otro día en calma,

tras la tempestad,

de mis aguas.

Es mi río,

no soy tu río,

no soy tuyo,

En mi río.

aun vivo,

vivo,

Y si sufro,

eso es bueno,

porque así me siento.

Me siento tan vivo flotando,

en mis corriente de agas

en las aguas de mi río,

que va y viene,

y si me ahogo,

saldré a flote,

más fuerte,

El dolor,

es parte,

de mí.,

Y luego,

cantaré,

reiré quizás.

en mi río vivo.

Y si cantó, es bueno,

esta es mi canción de aguas,

agua de mis ríos en mis venas.

Este es el río de la canción de mi vida.

....

I AM NOT YOUR RIVER

You don't know my pain,
I am not your river,
let me be.
Let,
let me suffer,
let my river run,
I am not your river, I am not you.
Forget,
forget everything about me,
let me go far away,
far from everything, and drown.
Let me drown in life,
let everything continue,
in the winding river.
I am not yours,
let my river follow its course,
let my river run free,
let me drown in its waters.
Let me sing,
sing in Italian,
do things badly, they are mine.
Let me have my life.
I want to make mistakes
my life is this way,
I will drown,
and I will survive.
And the river will run,
another day in calm,
after the storm,
of my waters.
It is my river,
I am not your river,
I am not yours,
in my river.
I am still alive,
alive,
And if I suffer,
that is good,
because that is how I feel.
I feel so alive floating,
in my current of waters
in the waters of my river,
that comes and goes,
and if I drown,
I will float back up,
stronger,
The pain,
is part,
of me.,
And then,
I will sing,
I will laugh perhaps.
in my living river.
And if I sing, it is good,
this is my song of waters,
water of my rivers in my veins.
This is the river of the song of my life.

---

28- VIII -2025

---
PASODOBLE.
An unfinished symphony, this life,
like a pasodoble, at times,
growing each day, and ending.
While this, my life, fills with its musical band,
a music that plays through days and moments,
as the path draws to a close.
And the drums sound,
to bid farewell
to that life,
that gets stuck,
and doesn't want to end,
while pasodobles play on

Música y vinos, Manuel Morales Martínez (1977)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6vCfTo8idE&list=RDt6vCfTo8idE&start_radio=1
Inside my hard shell,
within my armor.
On the outside, pretty smiles,
the laughter of my life, in life.
While my heart overflows,
my soul drowns in sorrow,
and when no one is around, pearls.
Pearls of tears, I spilled,
the heart overflows,
in pearls of poems,
small drops.
Drops of the soul,
the despair of living.
Too soft,
too sensitive,
in the misery of love,
a fragile heart for everything,
to see the cruel reality.
Sometimes too many pearls,
pearls embalmed in the soul,
so many tears that they overwhelm me.
A heart overflowing with tears,
tears turned into poems,
sad verses poured out in prose.
While life goes on and everything slips away from us,
verses that detach beautifully,
transforming the tears,
tears that are pearls,
into those poetic pearls.
Spilled pearls,
pearls to see,
to look at and to collect,
through the keyhole,
of that strongbox that is my soul.
Stories of pearls created in breastplates,
in that hidden life no one knows anything about.

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/pearls

16 - VII - 2025
PERTURBING

Tragedies, those moments,
a perturbing moment,
between life and the other.
Catastrophes of life,
uncertainties,
for some.
In those moments,
on the edge of the abyss,
sometimes there are hard instants,
waves that drown, into nothingness.
Earthquakes that lay waste to everything,
a perturbing moment.
In an instant,
everything changes,
unstable,
fragile.
Moments,
between the good,
between disasters,
everything keeps changing.
With nothing certain,
everything changes,
for the better,
or not.
Instants,
that inspire fear,
between the dread of living.
On those fragile lines,
on life's tightropes.
Suspended by the waves,
on the razor's edge,
life is dangerous.
To live is enigmatic,
precarious lives.
Everything is an adventure,
on the line of living,
between life and the end,
lines that separate.
That life one lives,
sometimes it goes quickly,
between tidal waves,
hard and soft.
Among so many,
moments,
of living,
or of
passing,
without living,
or lived.
Long lives,
or brief days,
perturbing
that life,
who
knows
...

30-VII-2025
PIANO

Dreamed of piano music,
piano I never played,
music absent from me.
Sad childhood desires,
piano too expensive,
too much a luxury for me,
distant music for nothing.
And life passed without learning,
clumsy hands, clumsy fingers,
poor sight, and far from the piano.
That piano I long for when I see it,
that music I never learned,
too poor for pianos.
But the piano melodies continue,
those pianos, that music, resonate,
the music of others that plays,
in the melancholy of listening,
while the music rumbles.
I take refuge in the keys,
of the computer and bang,
on that unfinished poem,
on that music of my life,
that takes the form of verses.
A substitute for music,
those paintings, those letters,
for a deaf music,
in the melody of my life.
While others play,
putting on that music,
that background music,
that soundtrack
of life that beats,
that beats in the air,
while I listen,
other pianos in me.
Music that now resonates
in my verses,
like a sad copy,
of the dreamed music.

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/dreamed-of-piano-music
My precious velvet donkey,
my dreamt plush toy, pure poetry,
a  cotton skin, so soft.
As tender as a warm cloud,
that dreamlike Platero, pure jet black,
as sweet as an angel's sky.
Oh, to have a Platero in my life,
to walk beside me in green meadows,
to mingle among wildflowers,
to lie down with me, to be my friend.
Oh, to have such a sweet little donkey in paradise,
all beauty and tenderness, love in its purest form,
to caress you and feed you,
ambrosia for my friend.
Together through the world of perfumed earth,
trotting in nature's heaven.
How I wish I could have held you
in my lap,
my little donkey,
together
in that world.
A gentle world,
where all is good,
in the world of my dreams,
where we are all so happy,
where that other Platero and I reside.

---
Mi precioso burrito de terciopelo,
mi peluche soñado, pura poesía,
piel de algodón, tan suave.
Tan tierno como una nube cálida,
ese soñado Platero, puro azabache,
tan dulce como el cielo de ángeles.
Quién tuviera un Platero en mi vida,
que me acompañara en verdes prados,
que se confundiera con flores silvestres,
que se recostara conmigo, que fuera mi amigo.
Quién tuviera un burrito, tan dulce, en el paraíso,
todo bello y tierno, el amor en estado puro,
para acariciarte, y darte de comer,
ambrosía para mi amigo.
Juntos por el mundo de la tierra perfumada,
trotando en ese cielo de la naturaleza.
Ojalá te hubiera podido recostar
conmigo en mi regazo,
con mi burrito,
juntos
en ese mundo.
Un mundo amable,
donde todo es bueno,
en el mundo de mis sueños,
donde todos somos tan felices,
donde vive ese otro Platero y yo.
Like a point, someone,
with a beginning, one more.
A marking of life,
like a sculpture,
that is being made,
carving that journey.
Taking my form.
Between points, life,
that passes us by, days,
days, to the final point.
Among so many, there,
now also,
in the moment
There I am, that's how it is,
in that point,
melancholic
decadent,
And resigned,
between points,
that pass,
through my life.
Moments,
more points.
Waiting,
for that point,
of arriving,
at the end,
at that final,
let's call it
final point.
Meanwhile,
connecting
in the living,
those points,
some points,
like poems.
Between distances,
on that walk,
of our life.
Very slowly,
in me, a delicate
final passing.

Connecting points,
until that point,
called
final point.
In the beauty,
of being a point,
among so many,
other points.
In time
of existing.
A point,
of life,
meditating,
on life,
and the end.
Nostalgic
for the past,
for points
of my yesterday.
Connecting
points,
on that
path,
of living
of today,
tomorrow
without knowing
if, the point arrives,
of completion,
that terminal point.
In the end,
those

Life is a line that connects points until death...
Ragpicker

Among life's ***** rags,
I walk like a ragpicker, rummaging,
cleaning life with rags and poems.
Poems that are sometimes soft and other times, not,
among the garments of life, among the clamor of living.
Among rags that help us clean even the soul,
and with clothes that turn us into disguised souls.
Rags to see that in the end, we are all worn-out rags.
I am a ragpicker of life, collecting rags and transforming them.
With my handkerchiefs, with my soft cloths among my discards,
rebuilding life in words, a ragpicker of poems.
Scorned by all and taking what no one wants,
in my sea where sometimes the waves are handkerchiefs,
those white rags, cloths of seawater.
Singing to the life that falls apart on me,
like old rags that are gone,
and are sometimes recycled.
Rain

Rain in my poems,
salty water of tears,
songs of water rain down.
Rainwater that comes to me.
It rains inside me, without stopping,
everything burns, bad times.
Everything burns down for us,
the rain burns, desolation.
There's no hope left,
everything's going wrong,
from bad to worse.
Rain that burns,
the soul is on fire, and it won't stop.
Hopes are leaving,
and when there's nothing left,
what's the point of pretending.
I will drown, and it doesn't matter,
the world will go on and who cares,
other drops will reach another heart.


https://soundcloud.com/carlos-863906007/vidnoz_aisong-2025-09-3
RAYOS (Rays)
Summer heat, in the light,
discovering seduction.
Transformed into rays,
riding on light.
Sparkling.
Reverie.

The art of loving,
in our waves.
On summer afternoons,
attractive, ignited.
Through love,
waves of pleasure.

Submerged in the water,
discovering skin.
Delighting,
floating.
On wind's sailboats,
in flower pools.
Glories,
pleasure.

Resting from life,
being as we are.
Truly,
stars,
lunatics.
Uninhibited.

Shining with the sun,
in unadulterated life.
Sunny,
silvery,
golden.
Sublime.

In life's wind,
among the mountains,
on the blue sea.
Resting,
sensual.
Calm.
Open.
To pleasure.
Relaxed.

Open,
to love,
in the sea,
of the sky.

---
Calor en el verano, en la luz,

descubriendo la seducción.

Reconvertidos en rayos,

cabalgando en luz.

Chisporroteando

Ensoñación.

El arte de amar,

en nuestras olas.

En las tardes del verano,

atractivos, encendidos.

A través del amor,

olas de placer.

Sumergidos en el agua,

descubriendo las pieles.

Gozando,

flotando.

En veleros del viento,

en albercas de flores.

Glorias,

placer.

Descansando de la vida,

siendo como somos.

Realmente,

estrellas,

lunáticos.

desinhibidos.

Brillando con el sol,

en la vida sin tinturas.

Soleados,

plateados,

dorados.

Sublimes.

En el viento de la vida,

entre las montañas,

en el mar azul.

Descansando,

sensuales.

calmados

abiertos

al placer.

relajados.

Abiertos,

al amor,

en el mar,

del cielo.



--

14-6-2025
SENSATIONS

It's summer, full of hope, to have a good time,
in that torrid air that undresses us as we sleep.
Time to spend time with ourselves,
in that time of floating in the water of a full bathtub.
Luxurious details, whims that don't cost much yet,
small luxuries to pamper ourselves, with the luxury of time.
That time that always leaves without being able to catch it,
in the summer, where there are rays of the warm sun.
On those days to enjoy reading,
in my hermetic worlds,
leafing through and savoring
those books or poems,
stored away.
Time to open
books, letters or doors.
In that world that is paused,
in the August of another year, perhaps,
where each day is a gift.
Dreaming of beaches, with those wild islands,
dreaming between uncovered sheets,
in my dreamed African savanna,
in a very white house.
In my Paradise
I dream,
of incredible
days,
in my gray life,
with small luxuries.


My secret luxuries,
at home, without going out,
poor miseries,
of being very poor
and rich in dreams.
Between saving every day,
and dreaming without measure,
dreaming of living a little,
and just like that, the holidays are gone.
While I collect sensations,
when the winds caress me,
that world that has no price
Among the jungle of my little garden
among waters that fall on me.
Fountains that make me happy
those sensitive days,
that no one charges for,
and which are just that,
my secret
luxuries.
Sensation
of caressing,
the days and nights,
that something no one else
can afford.
Except for an outcast,
envied for being rich,
in emotions of the soul.
In a rich neighborhood,
one more poor person,
in his house,
envied,
for being
like that.
https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/sensibilite

Dans le monde, un être sensible,
des émotions qui hérissent ma peau,
tout peut m’émouvoir.
Sensibilité sur la peau, à fleur de peau.
Dans le monde rempli de tant de choses qu'il m'offre.
Un cadeau magique ou un cadeau empoisonné.
Sensibilité exacerbée, vulnérable à tout.
Blindé face aux autres, trop sensible,
aimant sans être aimé, dans le monde des couleurs.
Dans mon monde, à fleur de peau, la vie résonne en moi.
Dans un monde, dans mon monde, dans mon autre monde, en moi.
Déplaçant mes ondes, naviguant sur les ondes,
flottant dans le vent, déplaçant le monde.
Sur les chemins, me promenant dans la vie,
timidité sensible, dans ma vie solitaire,
où même le vol de l'air résonne.
Flottant **** du sol, immergé dans la vie,
vie contradictoire, dans mon propre monde lointain.
Où personne ne frappe à ma porte, et je vois tout de ****.
Me penchant à ma fenêtre, dans ma tour, où personne n'approche,
incomunicado, craignant la douleur, souffrant pour tout,
à fleur de peau, sensible jusqu'à l'inconcevable.
Dans mes nuages, où tout est vu à la loupe,
dans la pauvreté de la vie, dans la richesse de tout avoir.
Sur mes balançoires, déplaçant ma propre vie, en ondes.
Dans mon monde, ce monde que personne ne voit, dans mon âme.
Entre larmes, entre la joie démesurée, où il n'y a pas de limites,
où la peau palpite avec la musique, où les étoiles font des poèmes.
Dans la vie où les jours passent et je les regarde depuis une fenêtre de ma tour.



-----------------------------------



SENSITIVITY

In the world, a sensitive being,
emotions that make my skin crawl,
everything can move me.
Sensitivity on the skin, raw sensitivity.
In the world full of so much that it gives me.
A magical gift or a poisoned gift.
Exacerbated sensitivity, vulnerable to everything.
Armoured against others, too sensitive,
loving without being loved, in the world of colours.
In my world, raw, life resounding within me.
In a world, in my world, in my other world, in me.
Moving my waves, navigating the waves,
floating on the wind, moving the world.
On the roads, strolling through life,
sensitive shyness, in my solitary life,
where even the flight of the air resounds.
Floating far from the ground, immersed in life,
contradictory life, in my own distant world.
Where no one knocks at my door, and I see everything from afar.
Peeking out my window, in my tower, where no one approaches,
incommunicado, with fear of pain, suffering for everything,
raw, sensitive to the inconceivable.
In my clouds, where everything is seen with a magnifying glass,
in the poverty of life, in the richness of having everything.
On my swings, moving my own life, in waves.
In my world, that world no one sees, in my soul.
Between tears, between immoderate joy, where there are no limits,
where the skin pulsates with music, where the stars make poems.
In life where the days pass and I watch them from a window in my tower.



---------------------------------------------------------------­---------------



SENSIBILIDAD
En el mundo, un ser sensible,
emociones que erizan mi piel,
todo puede conmoverme.
Sensibilidad en la piel, a flor de piel.
En el mundo lleno de tanto que me regala.
Un regalo mágico o un regalo envenenado.
Sensibilidad exacerbada, vulnerable a todo.
Acorazado frente a los demás, demasiado sensible,
amando sin ser amado, en el mundo de los colores.
En mi mundo, a flor de piel, retumbando la vida en mí.
En un mundo, en mi mundo, en mi otro mundo, en mí.
Moviendo mis ondas, navegando en ondas,
flotando en el viento, moviendo el mundo.
En los caminos, paseando por la vida,
sensible timidez, en mi solitaria vida,
donde retumban hasta el vuelo del aire.
Flotando lejos del suelo, inmerso en la vida,
contradictoria vida, en mi propio mundo lejano.
Donde nadie toca a mi puerta, y veo todo desde lejos.
Asomando a mi ventana, en mi torre, donde nadie se acerca,
incomunicado, con temor al dolor, sufriendo por todo,
a flor de piel, sensible hasta lo inconcebible.
En mis nubes, donde todo se ve con lupa,
en la pobreza de la vida, en la riqueza de tener todo.
En mis columpios, moviendo la vida propia, en ondas.
En mi mundo, ese mundo que nadie ve, en mi alma.
Entre lágrimas, entre el gozo desmedido, donde no hay límites,
donde palpita la piel con la música, donde las estrellas hacen poemas.
En la vida donde los días pasan y yo los veo desde una ventana de mi torre.

----------------




Dans le monde, un être sensible,
des émotions qui hérissent ma peau,
tout peut m’émouvoir.
Sensibilité sur la peau, à fleur de peau.
Dans le monde rempli de tant de choses qu'il m'offre.
Un cadeau magique ou un cadeau empoisonné.
Sensibilité exacerbée, vulnérable à tout.
Blindé face aux autres, trop sensible,
aimant sans être aimé, dans le monde des couleurs.
Dans mon monde, à fleur de peau, la vie résonne en moi.
Dans un monde, dans mon monde, dans mon autre monde, en moi.
Déplaçant mes ondes, naviguant sur les ondes,
flottant dans le vent, déplaçant le monde.
Dans le monde, un être sensible,
des émotions qui hérissent ma peau,
tout peut m’émouvoir.
Sensibilité sur la peau, à fleur de peau.
Dans le monde rempli de tant de choses qu'il m'offre.
Un cadeau magique ou un cadeau empoisonné.
Sensibilité exacerbée, vulnérable à tout.
Blindé face aux autres, trop sensible,
aimant sans être aimé, dans le monde des couleurs.
Dans mon monde, à fleur de peau, la vie résonne en moi.

Sur les chemins, me promenant dans la vie,
timidité sensible, dans ma vie solitaire,
où même le vol de l'air résonne.
Flottant **** du sol, immergé dans la vie,
vie contradictoire, dans mon propre monde lointain.
Où personne ne frappe à ma porte, et je vois tout de ****.
Me penchant à ma fenêtre, dans ma tour, où personne n'approche,
incomunicado, craignant la douleur, souffrant pour tout,
à fleur de peau, sensible jusqu'à l'inconcevable.
Dans mes nuages, où tout est vu à la loupe,
dans la pauvreté de la vie, dans la richesse de tout avoir.
Sur mes balançoires, déplaçant ma propre vie, en ondes.
Dans mon monde, ce monde que personne ne voit, dans mon âme.
Entre larmes, entre la joie démesurée, où il n'y a pas de limites,
où la peau palpite avec la musique, où les étoiles font des poèmes.
Dans la vie où les jours passent et je les regarde depuis une fenêtre de ma tour.

Dans le monde, un être sensible,
des émotions qui hérissent ma peau,
tout peut m’émouvoir.
Sensibilité sur la peau, à fleur de peau.
Dans le monde rempli de tant de choses qu'il m'offre.
Un cadeau magique ou un cadeau empoisonné.
Sensibilité exacerbée, vulnérable à tout.
Blindé face aux autres, trop sensible,
aimant sans être aimé, dans le monde des couleurs.
Dans mon monde, à fleur de peau, la vie résonne en moi.

Dans le monde, un être sensible,
des émotions qui hérissent ma peau,
tout peut m’émouvoir.
SHIMMER

Blinded by your rays, by your shimmer,
precious, treasures, unnoticed, are there.
Up the stairs of life, ascending,
down the stairs of life, descending,
discovering the wonders of everything.
Impactful, surprising,
dazzling, astounding,
those rays of yours, which illuminate.
In the streets, on the corners,
everywhere, I feel your rays.
Blinding, brilliant, everything with you,
illuminating all with your auras,
multiple facets of a brilliant one.
My unknown diamond, you are there.
How did it take me so long to see you?
With you by my side, everything is new,
with you I learned how to look at everything,
to see beyond surfaces, more.
More and more, flashing life,
you lent me that new way,
that whistling way of looking at everything.
With you I feel I'm on top of clouds,
fascinating, astounding, that everything existed,
and until I was with you I didn't know they did.
Luminous, your discovery impacted my brain,
your rays turn everything into a luminous experience.
Everything turns into shining gold, with your flashes,
my brilliant diamond that is always with me.
Life turns into gold at every instant,
liquid gold, that spills over everything.
Everything melts with my brilliant,
diamond that walks with me.
You transformed the mundane
into a magical meaning,
everything becomes sublime,
with you everything is shimmer.



---
9-X-2025
Very slowly,
very gently,
very sweetly,
a slow song.

I want my time,
in the soft calm,
to hear a song,
that doesn't have to rush.

I looked back, and I discovered,
that everything I wished for, I had,
small wishes that were fulfilled.

In the miracle of having everything I wished for,
in that river that now carries happy pain,
in the beautiful music of living by a miracle.

Now I just want to hear my song slowly,
a tiny song, that is like a river.
A small river, of a small life,
a soundtrack, of the day to day.

Amid the hustle and bustle in my life,
a little parsimony,
let's calm our lives.

Let's listen a little,
to the silence of the soul,
that echoes within us,
in this song.

Simple song,
slow, very slow.
Song of life,
miracle of everything,
of hearing the heartbeats,
the sound of my river,
is the blood of living.


----
https://soundcloud.com/carlos-863906007/vidnoz_aisong-2025-08-3
SOMETHING

Something,
something more,
something more in you,
something more in me.
Life passes,
life passes us by,
everything goes.
I'll go,
you'll go,
far away.
Far from you,
far from my life,
the years passed,
Something more in everyone,
that one, who shines,
bright, free.
Years, that go,
everything goes,
beauty,
life,
it goes.
Meanwhile,
something more,
in us,
fighting back.
Dancing,
on strings,
alive,
still.
Yes,
me.
Yes,
you
and
I.

----
https://soundcloud.com/carlos-863906007/vidnoz_aisong-2025-09-8
SONG

I'll let a song take flight,
a song for life.
Just a music to stain life,
so that life may have a melody.
A song only mine,
a melody for me.
With trumpets, with its own music,
a poem turned into my music.
Music for the everyday,
to fill life with light.
Poems to be sung again and again,
music to draw a curtain on each day of mine.
Notes for living,
notes for one,
invisible song.
Amidst the electric music,
notes of sweetness untamed.
Music for intimacy,
sounds to reflect myself,
poems that are set free,
in those soft sounds.

That music for one,
music for flying,
to speak the soul.
Poems with air,
music of the air,
air to float.
My melody,
to save,
that life
of one.

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/hugs
With feet on the ground, stepping.
Stepping with my feet, stumbling.
In the sand, in the warm summers,
stumbling with my feet, falling.
Escaping broken life,
for a few moments, we float.
In those dreams that will return,
eager to have a good time.
Barefoot on the beaches,
submerged in the water.
Moments to repeat,
getting out of the routine.
Stumbling over everything,
I go by fits and starts,
on the thin lands,
on the fine sands.
Falling once more,
into melancholy,
in no man's lands.
and then everything starts.
Once more that sea,
waters and beaches, seas,
other times the party begins.

In the bustle of the sea,
in the moving tranquility,
in the boiling, in the burnishing of gold.
Disconnected, with fear of returning,
without wanting to return to the heavy routine.
With feet on the beaches, playing,
playing with other feet, having fun,
in the summer to do crazy things.
To have a little more fun,
and then the usual drag,
that tedium, that bore.
Now with my feet,
in the sands,
vacation,
sea and sun.


---
13 de Agosto de 2025

---

www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxohJX9ElpE

Groove Armada - My Friend (Official Video)
STRANGELY

Unusual freedom, between walls, between wires,
illuminating poems from a strange mind.
In the joy of navigating thoughts,
without fears, without fears of anything, between walls.
Among thorns, in the free air of the stars,
among brambles, in the disorder, the chaos of living.
No rules for composing, in indifference,
in one's own norms to achieve freedom.
Strange mind in unknown territories.
In the tireless search to reach something more,
that something in the prison of living, in my freedom.
Without fear of the precipice, of my infinite abyss,
at the trigger of the final days of everything.
Between words that are born and remade within me,
in thoughts that fly free on waves.
Like a wingless bird with the miracle of flying,
in the tireless rhythm of beating in the worlds,
those worlds of my own in the world of others.
Strange life, after returning to the protected reality,
wrapped in cotton, with thorns and barbs on the fence.
Walking in the dazzling sun of the world,
anywhere and at any moment, soaring,
among flashes and sparks of being reborn each day.
STRANGER

Extraterrestrial,
earthling of the world.
Traveler of galaxies,
in my Martian world.
Stranger to myself,
foreigner everywhere.
Pilgrim of life itself,
being of who-knows-where, one,
from nowhere through the world.
Without any country, without roots,
stranger of the globe,
small world.
Foreigner,
stranger to one,
a stranger to myself.
Without an effective nationality,
I am from where I go, without roots.
A strange feeling of not being,
I am from nowhere and everywhere,
born in a country that is not mine.
My country is the world, the entire globe.
My world is the limitless universe,
a navigator through the firmament.
Stranger to myself,
I still don't know who I am,
a strange lunatic,
Martian.
Suspended Air
Between nebulas, suspended,
air among the senses,
poems of water.

Among fish,
in that distant sea,
among the bubbles of the dive.

Between the moon and the sun,
the salt and the water,
verses.

Poems of waves,
in the silence the sea roars.

Between the seashells, and the sands,
among the currents float unwritten poems.

In that distant world, where life is born and dies endlessly,
among waves there are poems that move at their own pace.

Incredible poems to write about life,
that life that is born and dies.

Suspended air,
among waters,
alive.

Bubbles,
salt and sea of life.
---
Entre las nebulosas, suspendidas,

aire entre los sentidos,

poemas de agua.

Entre peces,

en ese mar lejano,

entre burbujas del buceo.

Entre la luna y el sol,

la sal y el agua,

versos.

Poemas de ondas,

en el silencio ruge el mar.

Entre las caracolas, y las arenas,

entre las corrientes flotan poemas no escritos.

En ese mundo lejano, donde la vida nace y muere sin fin,

entre olas hay poemas que se mueven a su aire.

Poemas increíbles por escribir de la vida,

esa vida que nace y muere.

Aire suspendido,

entre aguas,

vivas.

Burbujas,

sal y mar de vida.
Tears of Stars

Aquí tienes la traducción al inglés de tu poema:

Tears of Stars
Open your eyes, and lift your gaze.
Tears of stars in August.
Flashes that spill down upon us.
Streaks of light in the firmament.
In the night sky, stars fall.
In the universe, wonders are shed.
Lights from the sky, Perseids scattering.
Dreams of the night, other worlds dissolving.
Other worlds stripped away, falling ablaze.
Stories of lights, illuminating the sky's dome.
Open your soul to contemplate the torrent of star remains.
Meteors cast down since the beginning of time.
Lights that melt into the endless sky for all.
In those scorching days of August, in the heat,
where life sometimes submerges into water,
swimming through life, while the light falls.
In the night, in the daytime lights of suns,
in explosions that illuminate us,
life filled with lights and shadows.
In that cosmos where you live,
in the universe of the great,
where the small lives,
among wonders,
of the nights,
of the days.
THE LIFE HAPPENS TO US

Sometimes life happens to us,
sometimes we pass on life,
and life always goes away.
Day by day,
walking,
going through the days.
Bad days,
good days,
run-of-the-mill days.
Sometimes days that shipwreck,
days to savor a cocktail,
cocktail to brighten up your life.
Life goes away in sips,
life is made,
each day,
it happens to us,
Life is that cocktail,
a cocktail to go through life,
cocktail to brighten up your life.

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-863906007/las-vida-nos-pasa


----
A veces la vida nos pasa por encima,

a veces pasamos de la vida,

y siempre la vida se va.

Día a día,

caminando,

andando por los días.

Días malos,

días buenos,

días del montón.

A veces días que naufragan,

días para paladear un coctel ,

cocktail to brighten up your life.

A sorbos la vida se nos va,

la vida se hace,

cada día,

nos pasa,

La vida es ese coctel,

un coctel para ir por la vida,

cocktail to brighten up your life.
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL

Reflections of what is most beautiful,
the most lovely, unrestrained,
mirrors of everything that is outside.
Gathering the essence,
delivering drops of the most beautiful,
filtered by the soul, glances to the beyond.

It doesn't matter how,
rescuing something important,
only the heart that beats when it's moved.
Of the sublime,
shadows of the intangible light,
that which is inside and outside of life,
going out to collect beauty for us,
for you, moments of a reflection of the most beautiful.


https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/gifts
I love to sing with my heart,
with my lips held tightly together,
without anyone hearing me.
In the silence,
in my silence,
letting my singing soul run free,
free,
in the silence of the soul.
Creating small poems,
musical poems of the heart,
full of words that sing for me.
Without anyone hearing me,
in poems to sing,
to sing life itself.
Words that sing within me,
with my own rhythm every day.
Giving away those songs,
distilled words,
to sing,
in silence.
Verses,
that sing,
reflections of the air,
of the inner noise.
The disguised music,
of my soul's mystery,
delicate air of my life.

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/eres-lo-mas-poema
The Other Side
Far away, deep within,
secrets of lives, of the other,
of the other, of myself.
Unspeakable life secrets,
dark desires of one.
In the most desolate part of life,
in the agitated, in the other.
Stories that pass through one,
at the mercy of desires.
Melodies that set the stage,
strange hidden worlds.
On the other side, those secrets,
unspeakable pleasures.
Unknown practices, lust,
hands that take over.
On that hidden other side of so many,
in lust, without limits.
Between the pleasure of flogging life,
locked-up worlds.
In the most hidden part of pleasures,
between pleasure and pain.
Flogging life in intimacy,
secret games of some.
Where nothing is what it may seem,
it's the unspeakable game.
Between unspeakable adult games,
where nothing is ever enough.
In the other doors of the other wall,
on the other side, games.
Very private adult games,
for slaves and masters,
Female slaves and male slaves who surrender,
masters and mistresses of others.
In secret chambers of minds,
overpowered minds,
bodies and souls tied to the other wall.
When desire triumphs,
corrupted worlds of lust.
On the other side of the castle,
in another world in the rules of pleasure,
on another side of pain and of joy.

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/the-other-site
The path has been long,
my path has been very long.
It's time to close the pages,
it's the end of my time, it's about time.
There's nothing left that can tie me down,
too many steps have been taken.
I leave nothing behind,
I did what was right.
I have fulfilled my duty,
I completed my mission.
I have had a good life,
let's give thanks for having so much.
I have been able to climb to the stars and contemplate them,
I have climbed those paths,
hills and slopes.
It's time,
to be ready,
to get prepared,
to abandon the baggage.
I've been lucky,
fortunate,
blessed,
to be,
to be who I am,
to have flown on Earth.
Grateful to be able to sleep peacefully,
I have a clear conscience,
despite being bad,
I can't give any more of myself.
Without fear of crossing to the other side,
the earth calls me,
it's about time.
Now, let's go,
I had my time,
it's time to get everything ready.
And no one will feel it,
and that's good,
to leave without a sound,
without fear.
This world,
this world is not mine,
it's time to cross,
time to close the book of life.
Meanwhile,
I will dream of the stars,
of the seas of distant waters,
and in the end I will leave without anyone missing me.
It's good to leave,
it's the law of life, I will reach the end,
I know I will have a good welcome,
they will accompany me on the other path to the end.
And whatever happens, the sun will rise again in the world,
and the stars will illuminate the nights.
My clock runs with haste,
and so, my path.

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/piano
The Poem

"Life is the true poem"

July 18, 2025.

A gaze from the sixth sense,
to seek that poem, "The Poem."
That poem that is always there,
to dive into life searching.
Where life is the only poem,
that poem that holds everything.
Where everything is, to see,
to feel, that it unveils itself,
in pieces for life.
In pieces searching,
for that ideal poem.
Reflections of life,
that are just,
there in everything.
Unfurled,
pieces,
parts,
souls,
poet.
In that,
which is,
something,
more.
You,
and
...
Thou shalt not ****.

Life must go on,
streams of life that are born.
Life must always continue.
Embryos of beautiful life.
Chrysalises, colorful butterflies.
Life must go on, thou shalt not ****.
Valuable lives from the moment they are created.
Everything has its place in the universe.
Let everything grow and flourish for us.
Children growing, children developing.
Leave the children and butterflies in peace.
Do not stain the blue world with blood.
Do not fill our souls with filth,
Creating life is the wonderful gift,
Let life grow on earth.
My words will poison you,
with toxins, venoms, and vaccines,
my thoughts and words will pierce.
Unknowing, I'll pass that virus to you,
that virus from my Venus, toxic,
contaminated by me.
In the power of my verses,
those that brand their mark on you.
You don't know, my poems infest,
I'll flood you with my sweet desires,
those that fly for all.
That toxin which is love,
forbidden love,
luminous love,
simple love,
verses laced with love.
I'll infect you with my love,
that love which today is venom,
I'll sway you with my indelible trace,
you'll vaccinate yourself and multiply my toxins.
You'll be powerless, once my words are read,
those that will usher in my way of being.
Inevitable, your soul will be infested,
I'll enfold you with my soul,
and you'll be a bit of mine.
That toxic venom of love,
will spread through your brain and soul,
that love forbidden in this age.
Love for art's sake, nothing more,
seduced by love,
love of letters,
Once my verses are read,
nothing will ever be the same within you.
You'll be inoculated with the word's power,
and I'll fill your current with a bit of me,
and you won't know you'll become a part,
a part of my very self,
in your soul and in your being,
it is my poison.
---
TOXINA

Te envenenarán mis palabras,

con toxinas, venenos y vacunas,

mis ideas y palabras traspasarán.

Sin saber, te transmitiré ese virus,

ese virus de mi Venus, tóxico,

contaminado conmigo.

En el poder de mis versos,

esos que te dejan huella en ti.

No lo sabes, mis poemas infestan,

te inundaré de mis deseos dulces,

esos que vuelan para todos.

Ese tóxico que es amor,

amor prohibido,

amor luminoso,

sencillo amor,

versos con amor.

Te contagiaré mi amor,

ese amor que hoy es veneno,

te influiré con mi huella indeleble,

te vacunarás y multiplicarás mis toxinas,

No podrás hacer nada, una vez leídas mis palabras,

esas que te introducirán mi manera de ser.

Inevitable,  tu alma será infestada,

te envolveré con mi alma,

y serás un poco mío.

Ese veneno tóxico del amor,

se difundirá en tu cerebro y alma,

ese amor que está vedado hoy en día.

Amor por amor al arte, sin más,

seducido por el amor,

amor de letras,

Una vez leídos mis versos,

nada volverá a ser lo mismo en ti.

Serás inoculado con el poder de la palabra,

y te llenaré el torrente un poco de mí,

y tú no sabrás que formarás parte,

parte de mí mismo,

en tu alma y en tu ser,

es mi ponzoña.
---
6-VII-2025
TRAPPED IN THE WORLD

Trapped in my worldly noise,
unwilling to look around.
Between the insatiable search
for that unending diversion.
Between concerts, zarzuelas,
operas, ballets, and theaters,
cinemas, for that distraction,
a futile way of not looking.
Filling myself with distraction,
without wanting to see anything.
Hoarding diversions,
that lead to nothing.
So as not to see anything,
to forget life,
to flee from everything,
from that world,
that traps me,
and that is not mine,
a world not dreamed of.
A world of nightmares,
to flee from in moments,
to waste time,
and look away,
and forget cruel reality.
A vain way of filling,
that time so as not to see,
that terrifying reality,
in a flight from everything,
so as not to hear my soul.

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/rapped-in-the-world
Un receso, un descanso, un alto.

Momentos para dedicar a uno,

Esos días para ser perezoso,

para descansar un poco.

Momentos para salir,

para estar tranquilos.

Días para darnos un alto,

días para sumergirnos en paz.

Instantes de felicidad, un descanso.

En el agua, en la montaña, o en sueños,

paremos y tomemos aliento en el camino.

Vacaciones para tomar impulso,

días para pasar tiempo,

tiempo de descanso.

En olas, en ondas.

Ese otro tiempo.

Tiempo sin reglas,

tiempos para cambiar,

esas vacaciones sin tiempo,

momentos de caprichos para uno.

Flotando en el aire, en el agua, o a la sombra,

días de vacaciones para descansar de la vida.

-----   To Die Each Day:
A Pause, a Rest, a Halt
A pause, a rest, a halt.
Moments just for us,
Those days to simply be lazy,
To ease our weary souls.
Moments for stepping out,
For quiet serenity.
Days to give ourselves a halt,
Days to deeply dive in peace.
Instants of bliss, a pure release.
In water, on the mountain, or in dreams,
Let's pause and catch our breath along the streams.
Vacations to take flight,
Days for simply passing time,
Time of gentle rest.
On waves, in ripples.
That other time.
Time without rules,
Times for a shift,
Those timeless holidays,
Moments of whim, for one's own gift.
Floating on air, in water, or in shade,
Vacation days, from life's weariness unmade.
Sometimes the body asks for a break,
and stops working, so weary.
Our body protests,
too much to function.

Body that rebels,
asks for a pause,
and screams at us,
overloaded,
exhausted.

And it breaks,
too much
undone,
spent.

That body,
my body,
out of tune,
lost its harmony.

So much marching,
so much work,
and in the end it takes its toll,
too much forcing,
and the machinery stilled.

And in the end we stop,
there is no other choice,
but to pamper with time,
that body with rest,
that took a vacation.

---
VACACIONES

A veces el cuerpo pide un receso,

y deja de funcionar, tan cansado.

Nuestro cuerpo protesta,

demasiado funcionar.

Cuerpo que se rebela,

pide una pausa,

y nos da gritos,

sobrecargados,

extenuados.

Y se rompe,

demasiado

reventado,

agotado

Ese cuerpo,

mi cuerpo,

desafinado,

se desajustó.

Tanto marchar,

tanto trabajar,

y al final se paga,

demasiado forzar,

y la maquinaria rota.

Y al final nos paramos,

no queda más remedio,

que mimar con tiempo,

ese cuerpo con descanso,

que se tomó vacaciones.



---

15-7-2025
VERY SLOWLY
How many years have drifted by,
Time rushes swiftly on.
And I, at times, pause myself,
So very slowly I go,
And in myself get lost.
Very slowly,
I take my time,
To lose myself,
Within my being,
Deep in thought.
I take my pause,
So very softly,
I look and listen,
I lose myself within,
Cease thinking,
And only feel,
That beating heart,
That soul,
That throbs,
That feels,
And I forget,
Of everything, no more.
I turn to me,
And let myself just sleep,
Within those dreams.
Sometimes I read verses,
So very softly,
Just as I like it.
Very calm,
I stop my clock,
And rest.
VOICES

IN VOICES,
VOICES,
Other
Faces
Amidst
WhispeRs
SilenceS,
DYED
WITH SCREAMS.
PLAYING
WITH SCREAMS,
WITH YOU,
GAMES,
in the silence,
of the heart.
Soft whispers,
in that world,
that SCREAMS at us,
DRAGGING,
with force, everything,
voices, STRONG,
THAT WE SCREAM.
Among whispers,
carrying syllables,
On the other side,
of life, you.
Out of sync,
out of tune,
silences.
Musics,
in me,
amidst
exaggerated
MOMENTS
OF FIGHTING,
Wild,
decelerated,
exorbitant,
silences.
Amidst
SCreams­,
that roar,
playing,
with letters,
syllables and you.
CRunching,
scratching,
everything,
between
the silence,
and the noise,
of the world.
HEART
That SCREAMS,
SCREAMS,
LET US SCREAM,
in the silence,
of a city,
NOISY,
THAT CRUNCHES,
that carries us,
in waves,
exaggerated,
in me, in you.
Let
everything,
be noise,
and when
everything explodes,
let's hear the silence,
that silence that EXPLODES,
and makes us HEAR THE HEART,
cleared of life's noise.
And if you want to cry in silence,
let the HEART SCREAM,
SCREAMS OF THE SOUL,
among consonants,
that drag us,
in the exorbitant,
world without compass.
Without rules, without norms,
a moment to live.
Far from the conventional,
CREATING SCREAMS
IN THE silence,
in me,
in you
silences,
that SCREAM,
THAT CLAMOR,
to rest,
that your soul,
that my soul.
Screams,
in everyone,
that no one
hears
deaf,
Listen,
YOUR
rhythm,
that beats,
cycles,
waves,
complaints,
whispers,
of the being,
that
which
screams,
and cries,
or sings,
in silence.
If you don't like it,
I don't care,
I'll scream!!!!
with screams,
in silence,
OR ALOUD!
SSSSS,
SSS.
SCREAMING
whispers
...
WAVE PIRATE

That pirate walking around, without a wooden leg,
a modern-day buccaneer,
lives on a boat in the Manzanares,
He goes out at night to sail,
among ducks and stars.
The pirate smiles,
everyone chases him,
the tax authorities for being poor.
Creditors chase him,
but he doesn't care, he sails in his sailboat,
under the bridges, he lights a candle.
And at night he fishes for a can of sardines,
he lives poorly under the bridges, they are his castles,
That pirate is so handsome that in rags he is a prince,
he is the king of beggars in a big, ***** city.
And he sails again and again into the distant past,
and despite having nothing, he is happy,
because he sails anew,
he dreams of ocean waves.

He has nothing,
he can't lose anything more,
everyone fits in his court,
and the beggars smile.
The pirate tells stories,
of better times past,
and sometimes when they have money,
they sail in a small boat in the Retiro Park.
And still, women turn their heads when he passes,
it's not common to see a pirate in Madrid,
A handsome pirate, whose poems are copied,
and I, an anonymous poet who plagiarizes the pirate,
and I sit with the others,
I listen to their stories,
and I dream.
Enthralled by the stories,
stories of a pirate who was someone,
now he is just someone, whose verses are to be copied,
anonymous poems that it's a shame to just let them get lost.
Fables of a pirate, stories of impossible boats,
those boats that are sailboats in the Manzanares,
a pirate who was shipwrecked among garbage bags,
unknown stories of Madrid,
that no one knows if they are true.
Stories of a wave pirate,
Fables of a life that shipwrecked,
tender stories that have a sad ending.
WE, THE LOSERS
We, who never win,
who lost all battles.
Failures, forgotten, losers,
lives wasted for nothing.

Those lives that never reached their peak,
fallen into oblivion, without triumphs in life.
Masterpieces of life that were lost,
on the losing side, anonymous, gray.

Lost along the way, masterful,
without a chance to celebrate anything.
So many lives we didn't reach,
and the dust carried everything away,
forgotten failures.

Losers,
that's who we are,
we,
the immense
majority.

NOSTROS, PERDEDORES

Nosotros, los que nunca ganamos,

los que perdimos todas las batallas.

Fracasados, olvidados, perdedores,

vidas que se malograron para nada.

Esas vidas que no llegaron a su cima,

caídos en el olvido, sin triunfos en vida.

Obras maestras de vida que se perdieron,

en el bando perdedor, anónimos, grises.

Perdidos por el camino, magistrales,

sin oportunidad de celebrar nada.

Tantas vidas que no llegamos,

y el polvo se lo llevo todo,

fracasos olvidados.

Perdedores

esos somos,

nosotros,

inmensa

mayoría

---
https://www.poemas-del-alma.com/blog/mostrar-poema-784308
Who Are You?

I want to scream, LOUDLY,
be strong, and what does it matter, what anyone says,
What does it matter what we can say, KEEP GOING,
KEEP GOING on your path, and whatever is meant to come,
let what is meant to come, come, BUT COME TO ME.
I am your pirate, you are my sorceress,
but come to me, if you wish,
and let whatever is meant to be, be, say no more,
JUST KEEP GOING, let your heart guide you, and live again.
Don’t cry for what wasn’t, and follow your path wherever it leads you.
And if you have to SCREAM, SCREAM, let your SOUL SCREAM,
and what others say, what does it matter, if your heart is a bird.
That heart that beats with every pulse,
that pulse that smells of life’s aroma, and whatever is, let it be.
And if they ask you, who are you?, don’t answer,
just stop thinking about what others think,
and let your bird keep going, caged in your chest, beating.
Let everything be as you wish,
I will scream your name in the sky, girl.
That girl, who hasn’t aged, in a long time.
And let your soul do pirouettes and let them talk,
And don’t stop thinking about everything that is to come,
and put flowers in your life, let the aroma of life flow,
and let what is meant to be, be.
And stop being the other one,
that other one, that isn’t you.
And if they ask you, who are you?
What does it matter what they think, you are just you,
and every day you look for that path to be yourself.
Let’s not look for answers to unanswerable questions,
and just see that only you are the most important thing in your life,
and if life went awry, it will straighten out.
Just think that every day we are different, ever-changing,
that we can’t bathe twice in the same river waters.
And every day doesn’t have answers for everything,
let’s not pretend to be what we are not.
And if you ask yourself, who are you? Everything changes every day,
every day we are new, in this life that carries us and takes us away.
Girl, don't think so much about others and start thinking about being what you seek,
that girl who is a thousand different ways as the years go by.
And if you ask yourself, what does it matter
tomorrow, who knows,
if you will be another.
And despite everything,
always,
you are you,
Whatever happens,
you will continue to be another,
even if you change every day.
The same ever-changing one is you.
Keep being yourself on your path,
along the path, always you,
even if everything changes,
always you, my girl.
My golden woman,
in the sunset.
JUST YOU
MY GIRL!
WHEN NIGHT ARRIVES


At the end of the night,
at the end of life, lights,
lights in one's twilight.

Moving the waves,
transcending to the light,
leaving the body, flying.
in the night that transforms.

Long days,
in the tear,
in the smiles,
history of life,
sailing in blood.

Days that elapse,
nights of life,
walking.

Walking to the end,
that life that leads,
everything leads to the end,
days that pass us by.

Sad stories,
happy days,
everything went away,
and the story,
amounted to nothing,
stories of the end.

Stories of love,
that complicated love,
that amounted to nothing,
like everything in me.

History that fades,
walking to the end,
in the night of days.

Walking to the end, to the Light,
in my loops, in my nights,
between tears, between stars,
I was never brilliant, and my light goes out.

Stories of life that was a failure.

Stories of the nights in the rain,
that rain that spills within oneself—
Stories of the days that end in nights,
while I wait, I wait for the light beyond the path,
while everything turns into an unfortunate story.

----------------------------------------

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/when-night-arrives
----------------------------------------------­--------------
WHEN NIGHT ARRIVES
WHEN NIGHT ARRIVES


At the end of the night,
at the end of life, lights,
lights in one's twilight.

Moving the waves,
transcending to the light,
leaving the body, flying.
in the night that transforms.

Long days,
in the tear,
in the smiles,
history of life,
sailing in blood.

Days that elapse,
nights of life,
walking.

Walking to the end,
that life that leads,
everything leads to the end,
days that pass us by.

Sad stories,
happy days,
everything went away,
and the story,
amounted to nothing,
stories of the end.

Stories of love,
that complicated love,
that amounted to nothing,
like everything in me.

History that fades,
walking to the end,
in the night of days.

Walking to the end, to the Light,
in my loops, in my nights,
between tears, between stars,
I was never brilliant, and my light goes out.

Stories of life that was a failure.

Stories of the nights in the rain,
that rain that spills within oneself—
Stories of the days that end in nights,
while I wait, I wait for the light beyond the path,
while everything turns into an unfortunate story.

Walking to the end, to the Light,
in my loops, in my nights,
between tears, between stars,
I was never brilliant, and my light goes out.

Stories of life that was a failure.

Stories of the nights in the rain,
that rain that spills within oneself—
Stories of the days that end in nights,
while I wait, I wait for the light beyond the path,
while everything turns into an unfortunate story.

WHEN NIGHT ARRIVES
WHEN NIGHT ARRIVES


At the end of the night,
at the end of life, lights,
lights in one's twilight.

Moving the waves,
transcending to the light,
leaving the body, flying.
in the night that transforms.

Long days,
in the tear,
in the smiles,
history of life,
sailing in blood.

Days that elapse,
nights of life,
walking.

Walking to the end,
that life that leads,
everything leads to the end,
days that pass us by.

Sad stories,
happy days,
everything went away,
and the story,
amounted to nothing,
stories of the end.
WHISPERS
Seconds that drag in the night,
seconds that pass without knowing.
Stretching the seconds,
into minutes.
In the night.
In that time,
to refresh oneself.
Among the stars,
in the soul's silence,
amidst soft music.
Time to forget,
to finally come out,
within oneself,
forgetting everything.
Seconds to go,
to come to oneself.
One's moment,
to become absorbed,
to be oneself.
To forget the hustle and bustle,
to immerse oneself in the self,
to refresh ideas,
and be within oneself,
letting seconds pass,
stretching life.
Lengthening seconds,
converting seconds,
into minutes that slip away,
disregarding the hours.
Whispers of the seconds,
to convert life
into slow poems,
that float,
in the air.

28-VII-2025

---
Sunset Lounge 2025 | Smooth Sax & Deep House Chill Mix • 2-Hour Slow BPM

www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8AQn9Wbu7k&list=RDi8AQn9Wbu7k&start_radio=1
In the hands of the fates, in fatality,
in the destiny of blood moons,
in the hands of skewed chance.
In a world at war,
where all fall.
Destiny of fate,
final time.
Death,
mistress death.
Owners of the future,
corrupting everything,
in a world that dies,
in the adversity of madness.
A world without destiny,
headed for nothingness.
Fatality
created.
Ill-fated.
Walking,
inauspicious days
destroyers
without any future.
In the Great War,
a war against life,
a fatal destiny of madness,
without destiny, without hope.
Far from the light,
in the shadows,
precipice.
Fatality,
created
of the end.

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-alberto-856974375/vidnoz_aisong-2025-09
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