Hermética - En las calles de Liniers (English translation)
On the streets of Liniers
On the filthy corners of Liniers I waste my days
because it's not my turn of scaping.
The great closeness to the illusiory is reflected in the window shops
of a crappy shopping.
The populous devotion is drawn in long lines
to worship and not thinking.
The dead stone of the detour falsely miraculous
keeps hiding the truth.
Unsatisfied, renegades who deny themselves,
lacking of calmness and mercy.
They look for the triangle in the girls to feed his morbidness
and to masturbate in loneliness.
Theese girls also enjoy to show off like innocents,
they're witches, slaves to the television.
They live thinking in the outside, they're addicted to life
they look for money and passion.
I just pass on what I see,
it's not an invention of my mind, no.
This happens when I gaze at the present
on the streets of Liniers.
But when the sun, my faithful witness, hits the asphalt
and melts the tar
The nauseating ferments of the bogged down garbage
obstruct my thinking.
On the corner a cop is fighting with his woman
because she was never true to him
under the railroad beggars roll around
very few want to see them.
And the immatur human mob that comes down of the trains,
deperatedly and wild
Pollutes my head and I try to love them as I can
to never return again.