after so many years bound to the gun,
Let them be happy,
those red-bottomed mandrils that fill the newspapers!
Let them propose a toast,
those twisted-beaked democrats that fill the restaurants!
Let them dance,
those many-coloured dogs that fill the brothels!
aware of all lost years,
conscious of the futility of my efforts.
and also I swear:
that never again shall I be blinded by the glint of the revolver,
that never again shall I miss my target,
that never again shall I go one by one,
that the weapon I choose will be
precise, final, difinitive.
I will head to Amsterdam
and beneath the twelve hundred bridges
of that city of white mice,
I will find in the mist
The Dealer, King of all Dealers
and the clear light of my knife
will close his fish-eyes forever.
With the joy of the drunk,
with the pride of the athlete,
I will stalk the canals,
lord and master of the strongest of drugs,
the most perfect of weapons pocketed close to my heart.
In vain the gendarmes will search me.
The piercing gaze of the border patrol in vain.
NOTHING TO DECLARE. RIEN A DECLARER. NADA QUE DECLARAR.
You won't see me on the streets
passing by your side,
all the same I will be there.
You won't see me anymore
you ghosts, you ghoulish monsters!
Nor I you, what a shame!
wanting to rub the heavy sleep from your eyes,
fallen to the bathroom or kitchen floor,
skewered on piercing toothbrush bristles,
more desolate than Larrun mountain,
you will start to tremble, to heave:
horseflies, ants, endless intestines.
who will free the world from scary monsters,
Clark Kent, Captain Marvel, all superheroes in one,
I repent, I regret
that I realized so late
the advantages of this silent poison.
(c) Xabier Montoia