Goes the grandmother crestfallen
with his burden of pain along the way
in the sun his wrinkled skin
sweaty to the confused destination.
His lost gaze blinds
crawls stooped his walk
enduring the warm exhaustion
that he leaves in his path.
On his back the years
that aged the fragile time
of a youth that one day
It was the feat of a fleeting vestige.
Slides white and silver in the sun
the years that were tied firmly
the monochrome silver color
that hangs from his head.
His slow and clumsy steps
they hit softly and slowly
to the rubbing of the gray pavement
Like Jesus carrying the cross.
Time waits long the years
to sculpt life at the end
between present and past
and the uncertain future...
Va la abuela cabizbaja
con su carga doliente por el camino
al sol su piel arrugada
sudorosa al confuso destino.
Cegata su mirada perdida
gatea encorbada su caminar
soportando el cálido cansancio
que va dejando en su andar.
Sobre su espaldas los años
que añejaron el tiempo frágil
de una juventud que un día
fue hazaña de un vestigio fugaz.
Se deslisa blanca y plateada al sol
los años que se ataron con firmeza
el monocromado color plateado
que pende desde su cabeza.
Sus pasos lerdos y torpes
golpean suave y lentamente
al roce del pavimento gris
como Jesús cargando la cruz.
El tiempo aguarda longevo los años
para esculpir la vida al final
entre presente y pasado
y el futuro incierto...
