_{Si prefieres la versión en español, has clic en el siguiente enlace 👉 AQUÍ}

𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖,
𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜,
𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎,
𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢,
𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛,
𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜
𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕,
𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎, 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚞𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎,
𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜?
𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚠𝚗?
𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛-𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎,
𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚐.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚎, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛,
𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎,
𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜.

𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕,
𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍.
𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?,
𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗?

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚢, 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛.
𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢,
𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝚂𝚘, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝,
𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛,
𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗.

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Dedicɑted to ɑll those poets who contɾibute, dɑγ bγ dɑγ, to mɑke ouɾ plɑnet ɑ betteɾ woɾld.

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𝙴𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚞𝚗 𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚊𝚌𝚒́𝚘,
𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚜,
𝚞𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚊,
𝚜𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚘́𝚗 𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚘.

𝙻𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎, 𝚞𝚗 𝚎𝚌𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊,
𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚘́ 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚣,
𝚍𝚎𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚒́ 𝚞𝚗 𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜
𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚎́𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚛, 𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚣.

𝙻𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚗̃𝚊, 𝚙𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗̃𝚊 𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚊́𝚐𝚒𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚞𝚗 𝚙𝚎́𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚘,
𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚊 𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚓𝚘𝚜 𝚕𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊 𝚊 𝚜𝚞 𝚍𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚘,
𝚢 𝚎́𝚕, 𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚘,
𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚜𝚒 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚘.

¿𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚎́𝚗 𝚌𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚊́ 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚜?
¿𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚎́𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚣𝚊𝚛𝚊́ 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚛?
𝙴𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚘, 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘,
𝚘𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚞 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚞𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚘 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚊.

𝙴𝚕 𝚝𝚒́𝚘, 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚊 𝚢 𝚜𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊,
𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚢 𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚜,
𝚢 𝚎𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚘́𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊 𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚘,
𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚞𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚜.

¿𝙲𝚘́𝚖𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗̃𝚊?,
𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚎 𝚢 𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚗
¿𝙲𝚘́𝚖𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘́𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚎?,
𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚓𝚘 𝚕𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚊?

𝙴𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊 𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚘, 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚜,
𝚢 𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚊.
𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚣𝚊́𝚜 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚘,
𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚎́𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚘́𝚗.

𝙰𝚜𝚒́, 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚊́𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚞𝚗 𝚗𝚞𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊,
𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚞 𝚑𝚒𝚓𝚊 𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚘,
𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚣𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚎,
𝚢 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚘́𝚗 𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚎́𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚢 𝚞𝚗 𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚘.