A Lily and a Rose

I am a 13 year old boy,
They say that I am very measured,

Of a very peculiar taste,

That I can amaze anyone,

Because I am very determined.

Today I'm going to confess,

What has happened in these days,

That nobody is going to alarm me,

Much less to scare,

Because I'm just a child,

That with the happiness of a talent,

Someone has blessed me.

I'm from a Caribbean island,

Trees grow like rivers,

Rivers are like flowers,

The flowers are called lilies.

The mountains touch the sun,

And rivers come down in your navel,

And it looks like the reflection of the sky,

As saying: "welcome."

At the feet of prominence,

Five leagues from the river,

There are the houses,

There are mine.

In my town I know them all,

From the most tender to the yellow,

And from the most foolish to the most rogue.

It all started one spring morning,

In which I was going to declare my love,

I went with a learned poem,

And in the nest of my hands, a flower.

With the lily of my hands I compared you,

I dressed you with compliments from head to toe,

I recited my poems in verse and prose, And with my heart in my hand I gave you a rose.

You answered: You are a pigeon to come with roses,

The poems are outdated,

Dedicate yourself to something else.

You trampled my lily and my verse and my prose and my heart that bloomed within that rose.

With a bird you compared my love,

You threw me into a river of pain,

As if it were anything.

The one who looked at you as a butterfly

And your honey look admired,

Look how this cruel one pays her,

Posing a dagger in his chest,

Of bitterness and distaste.

Do not worry my love,

That although you laugh now,

Remember the ticking of the clock,

That the time comes for all of us.

I slept awake all night,

Devising a small plan,

Until I saw the smell on the ceiling,

It was my beloved coffee with bread.

My school is a cage,

Cage from which I want to escape,

Escape to never go back,

That they never do me again.

I made an illusion of going to the cage,

I went to wait for her on the way,

I knew where he came from,

To her, I went to wait for her.

My knife and lime friend accompanied me,

Rozándose waiting attentive,

Longing for the moment to come,

What was to happen.

From a distance I could see and up close I could knock you down and put my knees in your hands.

Now I come to give you back,

The dagger that you nailed me,

The one in my chest yesterday you left,

That you buried as a screw,

And I named it a knife,

And I'll come to present it.

In your neck he wants to kiss you,

A nice brand to leave,

Until that color springs,

Of which my flower was of the same,

And with the same affection humiliated.

Do not worry my love,

That although you cry now,

Remember the ticking of the clock,

That the time comes for all of us.

For each verse of my poems,

I stabbed him with a knife

And finally I placed,

On his mouth a crimson kiss,

That tasted like seasoning,

Just as lilies know.

Now I'm only 20 years old,

I speak only as a madman,

Because now the knife always speaks,

And he does it every day in my mind.