I have known for years that we are islands,
floating islands that we go to work,
our children are island children who
They attend school and recite the Flag of the
celestial and white homeland symbol of union
and of strength, husbands and wives
who have been sleeping for seven twelve twenty years
Together they hug sometimes and they are islands,
some of us are perfumed and equipped islands
with technological platforms, they reach
we aviator bees and looks that
They try to pierce the hymen of our
happiness. Others of us smell like chicken, vegetables,
hospital room, we're standing under the
garúa of a moon that wakes us up to go
to teach classes, enter Congress, open the workshop,
put the bread in the oven. my daughters are
islands, their husbands will be islands
miserable and alcoholic or doctors good at something, whatever it may be, they will be islands.
We are archipelagic humanity,
We are islands, God is an island, time shakes
our palm trees at their whim.
Hug me, my Island, my love.
Hold me, my island, I carry in the sand
an oceanic cold.