Aganjú

I waited for you in the growing moonlight.
I saw a lovely chair and sat.
I sneezed from your flu
I caught waiting naked, growing cold.

You satisfy me, you harmonize me,
you give me misery, you give me heat,
you tear off my clothes and praise me,
swearing holy words.

Anyone who knows the end of a job
knows the labor it gives
to fight for bread to bring back
so the house can survive.

I encountered a question in the street,
utterly groundless.
I will pray to never lose
this thing that is you.

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