miércoles, 30 de noviembre de 2016

Camino de gozo y paz. 139



Qué anhelo de violencia tiene el alma sectaria,
cuánto dolor quiere para el que no es de los suyos,
quiere humillarlo y abatirlo
porque ofende a su orgullo,
que tan famélico está,
qué fantasías de genocidio la poseen
porque anulan su fulgor
como a aquella amiga vanidosa de la Universidad
que creía un pensamiento humanamente disculpable desear
que murieran de pronto cuantos había delante de ella
en la cola del cine
o aquella otra, insaciable intrigante, tan falsamente afectuosa,
que pensaba que todas las personas corrientes eran
mezquinas y tontas,
qué ansias de grandeza tenía ella
pero que mezquino y tonto era ese desprecio,
cuánta helada maldad tiene el que odia,
qué poco amor ha visto en la vida,
qué falso es todo el cariño que ofrece
incluso a los más suyos, los de casa,
el esposo, la madre, la hija, la patria
pero tú y yo nos amamos sin ayuda de los prejuicios
y no nos permitimos un orgullo indigno
fundado en el privilegio.

What a longing for violence has the sectarian soul,
how much pain it wants for the one who is not its own,
it wants to humiliate and to overthrow him
because he offends its pride,
which so hungry is,
what a fantasies of genocide possess to it
because they nullify its glow
like that vain friend woman of the University
who thought that it was a humanly excusable thought to wish
that all those who were before her
in the tail of the cinema died suddenly
or that other, insatiable scheming, so falsely affectionate,
who thought that all the ordinary people were
mean and silly,
what longings for greatness she had
but how mean and silly was that contempt,
how much freezing evil has that who hates,
how little love it has seen in life,
how false is all the care that it offers
even to the most its own, those at home,
the husband, the mother, the daughter, the motherland
but you and I love each other without prejudice
and we do not allow ourselves an undignified pride
founded on privilege.

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