By the water, she exhausted,
all the salt from her eyes.
The baubles house the imprints,
and spill into the river,
carry the messages,
to her terrestrial creatures.
The birds swoop down,
to drink the salty rain,
mujer que no llora,
distributes earthly pain.
And the other side of existence,
a form appears from the void.
He claims the ceramic bowl,
dips it in the water,
to take away historical accuracy,
a burden shared.
She is bleeding with her mind,
tired of her warden,
mujer que no llora,
from the situation she was born in.
And eons came, and aeons went,
to hear how a life was all but spent.
Bodies born and bodies died,
Observing Engels forget to lie.
Parcels spread all over the place,
all over the place, and beyond the place.
Chaos and order repeat and repent,
To the wizard and his witchy mistress,
la mujer que no llora,
is gifted with forgetfulness.
But that is the wicked way,
when memory goes,
she repeats her day.
Stuck in the world,
without a sky to look up to,
without the key to the firmament,
la mujer que no llora,
Es la guía buscando su puente.
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