Pull something out of your own heart,
Tell me not the general,
Tell me not the real objects,
Not another empty word,
Up! Up the ladder,
Refrain from the inocuous,
Refrain from the chatter,
Pull something out of your own heart
True substance tell me,
Virtuous pulse tell me,
Imprint the muse into the air,
Show it to me.
Don’t feed me the sands of speech,
Don’t feed me mournful headlines,
Pull something out of your own heart,
Tell me not the vicissitudes of below,
Reveal us what whispers the soul,
Let the flame rise from your art,
Pull something out of your own heart,
Bufallos and elephants in a herd
Unleashing reddish force of mars.
Gustavo Bernardino 