If You Want To Do Living Poetry...

If you don't choke with indignation, 

If you don't choke under a bushel, 

If you don't groan under the weight 

And the bites of chains and shackles, 

If you do not suffocate in bitterness 

And sorrow at the degradation And contempt of man, 

If you do not cry out in the face of injustice, 

Crime and genocide, need and hunger, 

If you are not moved by the tears 

Of the widow and the orphan, 

If the calls of distress 

Do not find the way to your heart, 

If the flower that blooms, 

The wheat that rises, 

The dew that sparkles 

Do not make your soul vibrate,

If the palette of the setting sun, 

The fairy luminosity of the dawn, 

The brightness of the stars, 

The strange pallor of the moon 

Do not find an echo in your mind, 

Do not call out to your soul, Leave the verses.

If your shoulders do not bear 

The marks of the harnesses, 

The stigmata of the yokes, 

The stripes of the whip, 

Nor your steps have not been ground 

By the vain gestures of standing 

Without goal or end, 

If the cold has not frozen your fingers and your heels, 

If you do not face the difficulties, 

If you do not retreat in front of the problems 

At neck level, Do not think of “making" poetry...

”If you are deaf to the roar of the bombs, 

Blind to the plowshare of the plow 

That lifts a soil heavily with blood and metal, 

If your heart is insensitive 

To the invigorating work Of edification, Of useful existence, 

If for your hell is other people, 

Do not come to encumber this domain 

Which can be that of the chosen ones, 

Of the elite, but of true men.

If you are not capable Of taking life by the arm, 

Of looking at your mother, 

Your friends, your citizens, your country 

And the world in the face 

And without blushing your mother, 

Your friends, your citizens, and your country 

And the world by your deeds, Your words, and your poetry, 

If you do not know how to translate 

In your delirium and your writings, 

The leaping flow of popular arts, 

The transformations you wish for your country, 

The aspirations of your people, 

Then move away, without delay, 

From the world of the muses...

If racism does not revolt you 

And does not disgust you, 

If the heroism of children 

Caught in their adolescence By the cruelest of wars, 

The cruelest spoliations 

Do not inspire you, 

If you do not abandon others 

The care of reminiscing memories, 

Of clinging to the past, 

Of gargle with sparkling, 

But hollow and empty words, 

If you do not analyze human relationships extensively, 

Of character and facts, 

If everything that unfolds 

Before your eyes leave you cold, indifferent, 

If you do not lend an attentive ear 

To the mixtures brought up to date 

By syncopated rhythms, 

From buzzwords to unbridled romanticism 

Where the dithyramb, 

The admiration of the navel rubs shoulders 

With pastiche, pretension, intolerance, Leaves the lyre to others, And... shut up.

If you look for your aspiration In the depths of the popular masses, 

Where the people live, whose breath, 

Devouring ardor, boundless generosity 

Make your eyes open, 

Hearts palpitate And talents are born and mature...

If you have jealously guarded your youthful enthusiasm, 

If you reject the commonplace, 

If you listen to people and to the world, 

If your memory is gifted with sight and hearing, 

With smell and touch, If it overflows with the gift of hope 

That binds the past to the present, 

The present to the future, 

If you do not want to disinherit Your brother's heaven, 

If you want to remember and translate, 

Even and depend, 

Testify or accuse, Wipe away tears And provoke smiles, 

Commune with nature, 

Listen to the silences of the forest 

And the songs of the sea, 

If you want to sing the youth,

The beauty and richness of life,

The nobility of work, to continue And surpass the work to be written with sincerity, 

Passion and assurance "To make a living poetry" That owes everything to life, 

Then my friend takes your lute or your pen 

And all the colors of the palettes, 

All the scents of flowers, 

All the voices of the choirs will come to you, 

Your verses will challenge the reader 

Who will hear, understand the message 

And love as you do And thanks to you.