FR
Manosangre
There is no land around
Without God,
Resulting from the work
Of Nature.
Words wrapped in silence,
Gone quiet forever,
Eroded within time,
And dying in the dark.
There's blood on the rocks
That the sea will wash away.
We spread misery
To everyone,
Unknowingly ruining
That future of ours,
Remainders of our humanity.
There's blood on the rocks
That the sea will wash away.
Original text by TOMÁS BATISTA
translated from Spanish by EY@EL
© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.
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