A keresés eredménye

Who will die this morning?

Who has not fallen on their path?
Upon who has their crosses
not weighed a little bit heavier?
Who has not left some piece
of their strength in an obstacle
close to lights?
Who has not cried on some sad day,
who has not wanted to throw it all away
for an hour of luck?
Who is going to die this morning?
Who is going to die this morning?
 
Who has not crossed the cemetery
has visited it one night
to see the fatuous fires ?
Who has not dreamed of their wake
with friends turning their backs
and some bust of Vallejo?
Who has not claimed victory over sadness
who has not encircled between their legs
on lonely nights?
Who is going to die this morning?
Who is going to die tonight?
 
Who has not thought of suicide
who has not tried to justify
doing a Mayakovski one day?
Who has not noticed
that death is a hot whore
for all those who feel?
Who has not delivered a song
at least one to death,
for not following his itinerary?
Who is going to die this morning?
Wh?
Who is going to die this morning today?
 

Letter found in the shirt of an American soldier dead at Vietnam. June, 1972.

When you wrote to me I wasn't there anymore,
when you called me there was noise here
and I couldn't hear what they said
about those cardboard heroes.
 
I remember the heroic farewell
with high flags and honoring shouts,
and you, crying softly,
for my future, for your future.
 
And here today,
of what kind of heroism can we talk about
besides that of the one who under the sea
bursts inside the mines for his love?
 
And now
what can you and me expect
looking at these children who will never become
children like you and me?
 
If my bones come back home, don't cry for them,
and throw away the medal they will give you
and forget I was killed in action.
Because it was not like that, because I was just another murderer
and I don't even deserve death.