Beauty by beauty   
 poetry is made, stone by stone of light, image after image,
in search of a rebellious language, to crush the loneliness and surrender.
Barb, thorn, and wood, but also jubilation and rejoicing. Nothing
impossible to our imagination, in poems restless and brilliant
where the panther runs
 along verses and dreams.

 Disobedience by disobedience        
 poetry is made. Wing and winged flight, until it becomes a rose
of greater scintillation, to name creativity, the foundation of
writing, in search of suicide comets and constellations in the
work of the poem.
 Sirius and Cassiopeia. Oh, our language constructed with the
rigors of unique words,
 uprising and insurrection.

 Enchantment by enchantment
 poetry is made. Navigation of verses to bring down frontiers
rejecting blind obedience, and prohibitions, at times of
darkenings and deceptions.  
 To refuse principles of imposed acceptance and ruins, from which  
the dictators watch us, the wolves of cruelty, the censors and the  
concealed inquisitors,
 of the Apocalypse.

 Rebellion by rebellion         
 poetry is made. Fighting darkness and dagger of   
insidiousness, tricks, handcuffs. With song, with odes and
hymns of rebellious verse, armed with our poet’s
words, sunset and sunrise.
 Fiery flight and contempt.

 Body by body
 poetry is made, in its unfathomable work of syllables and
images, metaphors and rhymes, tumultuous and untiring heart,
to fight the dark voices at the head of the bed.  Grain and
grape of clarity to save us, because poetry redeems but does
not appease.
 Because poetry saves, but does not tranquilize.

 Dream by dream
 poetry is made, from utopia to utopia, equality to
equality, by laying the poem on the table, on the bedsheet, on the knee,
on the stubborn skin of the wrist. Our biggest weapon
 of liberty by and large.