They tell ...
that back in nineteen seventy
a cosmonaut was launched into space,
a good man of science,
a hero of tradition.
They tell ...
that after circling the earth
By mistake he fell into the jungle
in a marginalized village
for civilization.
They tell ...
that bacteria bombs had died
the birds, the trees the poor
everything that meant to live
while the capitals radiated
the hut condemned to succumb,
while the capitals radiated
the hut condemned to succumb.
They count, they count, they count, they count, they count,
count, count, count, count, count ...
that those who received the stranger
that by rare virtue he was also a hero
they waited for him with their hunger
and without another attribution.
They tell ...
that hunger ended with that man
and with the crowd that was waiting for him
span to span, hair to hair
without any distinction.
They tell ...
that under the vigil of the moon
nothing remained but the white armor
of the iron shell on which he flew,
a uniform to catch height
and a greenish mask for the sun,
a uniform to catch height
and a greenish mask for the sun.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)