La Belleza - Luis Eduardo Aute

Enemigo de la guerra

Y su reverso, la medalla

No propuse otra batalla

Que librar al corazón

De ponerse cuerpo a tierra

Bajo el paso de una historia

Que iba a alzar hasta la gloria

El poder de la razón

Y ahora que ya no hay trincheras

El combate es la escalera

Y el que trepe a lo mas alto

Pondrá a salvo su cabeza

Aunque se hunda en el asfalto

La belleza…

Míralos, como reptiles

Al acecho de la presa

Negociando en cada mesa

Maquillajes de ocasión;

Siguen todos los raíles

Que conduzcan a la cumbre

Locos por que nos deslumbre

Su parásita ambición

Antes iban de profetas

Y ahora el éxito es su meta;

Mercaderes, traficantes

Mas que náusea dan tristeza

No rozaron ni un instante

La belleza…

Y me hablaron de futuros

Fraternales, solidarios

Donde todo lo falsario

Acabaría en el pilón

Y ahora que se cae el muro

Ya no somos tan iguales

Tanto vendes, tanto vales

¡Viva la revolución!

Reivindico el espejismo

De intentar ser uno mismo

Ese viaje hacia la nada

Que consiste en la certeza

De encontrar en tu mirada

La belleza…

enemy of war

And his back of it, the medal

I did not propose another battle

that rid the heart

to get down on the ground

Under the passage of a story

That I was going to raise up to glory

The power of reason

And now that there are no more trenches

combat is the ladder

And the one who climbs to the highest

He will save his head

Although he sinks into the asphalt

The beauty…

Look at them, like reptiles

on the lookout for prey

Trading at every table

Occasion makeup;

follow all the rails

that lead to the top

Crazy because it dazzles us

His parasitic ambition

Before they were prophets

And now success is your goal of him;

Merchants, traffickers

More than nausea they give sadness

They did not touch for a moment

The beauty…

And they told me about futures

Fraternal, supportive

where everything fake

I would end up in the pylon

And now that the wall is falling

We are not so equal anymore

You sell so much, you are worth so much

Long live the revolution!

I claim the mirage

of trying to be oneself

That trip to nothing

What does certainty consist of?

To find in your gaze

The beauty…