afrentéis not my decline
decline in some of my hair ashy
:
as river reeds
without leaves or flowers.
dawn Do not remember me in my declining some golden hair
my
the
led the Abrego, the north and the north wind.
a decline in my
not curse my days
of suns and rains,
of paradise and wilderness
with the sun and rain also flourishes
stiff moor
do if only for a fleeting
time. Raiten
Alcalá de Henares, October 25, 2003
decline in some of my hair ashy
:
as river reeds
without leaves or flowers.
dawn Do not remember me in my declining some golden hair
my
the
led the Abrego, the north and the north wind.
a decline in my
not curse my days
of suns and rains,
of paradise and wilderness
with the sun and rain also flourishes
stiff moor
do if only for a fleeting
time. Raiten
Alcalá de Henares, October 25, 2003
HATE
Start by letter or rounded and plump;
letter that does not go into mass
because doing so makes misogyny
other side of hate.
Keep up the inside
d has to grow
buried hatred, content or aerated
never a good advisor and loyal friend.
i continues to hell.
That feeds anger burns
and bad deeds.
And just finally
with another or hollow.
A
unsolicited advice I give you:
"never let hatred
living in peace with you,
condénalo ostracized." Raiten
Alcalá de Henares, September 26, 2001
Start by letter or rounded and plump;
letter that does not go into mass
because doing so makes misogyny
other side of hate.
Keep up the inside
d has to grow
buried hatred, content or aerated
never a good advisor and loyal friend.
i continues to hell.
That feeds anger burns
and bad deeds.
And just finally
with another or hollow.
A
unsolicited advice I give you:
"never let hatred
living in peace with you,
condénalo ostracized." Raiten
Alcalá de Henares, September 26, 2001
Humble
thistle born close to the ground almost
with my short stem,
just fail to see the herbs.
Outside, straw and rough
inside, full of sorrows
all my feelings go beyond a furious
pain since being thistle, oh my love, I would be
your eyes pleasurable
and your hands the softest
of roses, the most beautiful.
Tell me why, butterfly,
avoid me? Cardo
am, but without spines.
never harm your wings!
A roadside
gonna
burning summer and I'm still waiting, in vain, to re-visit
as did
when born, so tender,
late winter. Cardo
am
but without spines.
The pain I suffer.
My sorrows, my inner:
are mine that I feel them.
Alcalá de Henares, August 1, 2001
thistle born close to the ground almost
with my short stem,
just fail to see the herbs.
Outside, straw and rough
inside, full of sorrows
all my feelings go beyond a furious
pain since being thistle, oh my love, I would be
your eyes pleasurable
and your hands the softest
of roses, the most beautiful.
Tell me why, butterfly,
avoid me? Cardo
am, but without spines.
never harm your wings!
A roadside
gonna
burning summer and I'm still waiting, in vain, to re-visit
as did
when born, so tender,
late winter. Cardo
am
but without spines.
The pain I suffer.
My sorrows, my inner:
are mine that I feel them.
Alcalá de Henares, August 1, 2001
The realities of daily life views with humor, do not cease to be true but they are nicer. Society is full of unsung heroes, to them I dedicate my attention. Poetry have here a small space. 
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