The Last Song - Miguel Hernandez

Tonight, thousands of asylum seekers share with Miguel Hernandez the cruel destiny of those without power, without light, without home.

Painted, not empty:
my house is painted
in the colors
of great passions and tragedies.

The empty dinner table,
and noisy bed will return
from the tears to which
they were taken.

Kisses will blossom on the pillows,
And sheets will rise over bodies
entangled like vines
nocturnal and perfumed.

Hatred will vanish
behind the windows.

Claws will be softened.


Leave me hope, at least.

(Written in prison, from which he never returned)

Cancion ultima

Pintada, no vacía:
pintada está mi casa
del color de las grandes
pasiones y desgracias.

Regresará del llanto
adonde fue llevada
con su desierta mesa
con su ruidosa cama.

Florecerán los besos
sobre las almohadas.
Y en torno de los cuerpos
elevará la sábana
su intensa enredadera
nocturna, perfumada.

El odio se amortigua
detrás de la ventana.

Será la garra suave.

Dejadme la esperanza