You have to be careful when the poet grows wings.

because when that happens

When the poet suddenly grows wings

He is no longer a bicycle

Do not take collective

Does not walk to school

When wings grow no longer enters warehouses

Then he doesn't know how much man comes out

everyday living

Does not know the price of fish

nor the price of bread

As it flies so high, it does not see repression in the streets

nor gets to read because of the height

the slogans that are agitated in the flags of the town.

The poet grows wings and neither the rain wets it and

Because it goes over the clouds

And you go to such distant places

And only at the beginning of the month

To look for check or cash payment

For the books sold

In literary fairs.

When the poet grows the wings is a hybrid

Stop belonging to the race of those who wake up

In the middle of the cold night

To take a couple of mates

Before going to the factory

or to the office.

When the poet grows wings you have to be careful.

What a spontaneous pity

A poet who does not walk the street

that does not talk with horses

who does not know that the real estate business

He is eating the liver in the seventy percent

of his brothers.

But it is no longer human.

The winged poet is a hybrid

Look literature

His own literature behind the glass

See your name in the windows.

says in Latin things so beautiful that one makes you want

of crying trees with all your leafs

half fall on the sidewalk.