Sigur Rós - Illgresi

Una sola puerta de tres, abierta. 
Una sola puerta. 
Enfrente, la montaña. 
Pasa la nube inmensa; 
toda suya… todo suyo. 
Huracanes de vientos; 
lluvia andante semiparalela 
y en todo el monte funerales alegres, naturales, 
de hojas muertas. 

Los cabellos terráqueos danzan todos iguales 
al son de trompetas invisibles que vienen de los mares. 

Llegó el otoño; llegó la muerte… 
¡Mas no para todos! 
Hoy morirán hojas y animales. 

Mas no morirán para siempre y, en su transformación de mañana 
darán 
con más calor 
a la tierra, 
de su muerte, 
pasado mañana, 
brotes de espeanza. 

Y yo no he muerto. 
Me alegro de la lluvia 
y me alegro del viento. 
Si tengo frío, me caliento; 
si tengo miedo, ¡Que no lo tengo!, 
susurro y pienso… 
y para mañana 
ya me he comido mi pequeña ración de esperanza. 

Una sola puerta de tres, abierta. 
Una sola puerta inmensa. 


-Y como muchas veces lo he dicho, Robe Iniesta nació para cantar/recitar este poema- 

For four fortnights I’ve fled from my fortress
Foraging forests five footsteps in length
Fortitude found within forty ounce bottles
Flowing like flies from your face
From your face

And my neighborhood
It’s been filled brim with black cats
And when I go driving they walk through my path all the time
Every time

First we were babies, we’re birthing and dying
Then we were children, we were playing and crying
And then we were teenagers we were smoking and fucking
But now we’re all grown up and we’re sadly sighing
Liking, mud larking, and licking our wounds
We’ve created by lusting and lying to ourselves and to others
We’re sadly sighing

And I’d like to be a big ball of meat
That bee’s can buzz around and eat when I die
So that I may be granted one sense of purpose

He wants to die in a lake in Geneva
The mountains can cover the shape of his nose
He wants to die where nobody can see him
But the beauty of his death will carry on so
I don’t believe him

He greets me with kisses when good days deceive him
And sometimes we’re scorned and sometimes I believe him
And sometimes I’m convinced that my friends think I’m crazy
Get scared and call him, but he’s usually hazy
At 1 in the morning, the day is not ended
By 2 he is scared that sleep is no friend
By 4 he will drink but he cannot feel it
Sleep will not come because sleep does not will it
And I don’t believe him
Morning is mocking me

I wander the streets, avoiding them eats
Till ring on my finger slips to the ground
A gift to the gutter, a gift to the city
The veins of which have broken me down
And I don’t believe him
Morning is mocking me

The gods that he believes never fail to amaze me
He believes in the love in his god of all things
But I find him wrapped up in all manner of sins
The drugs that deceive him and the girls that believe him
I can’t control you, I don’t know you well
These are the reasons I think that you’re ill
I can’t control you, I don’t know you well
These are the reasons I think that you’re ill

And since last that we parted
Since last that i saw him down by a river
Silent and hardened
Morning was mocking us, blood hit the sky
I was just happy, my manic and I
He couldn’t see me; the sun was in his eyes
And birds were singing to calm us down
And birds were singing to calm us down

And I’m sorry young man, I cannot be your friend.
I don’t believe in a fairytale end
I don’t keep my head up all of the time
I find it dull when my heart meets my mind
And I hardly know you, I think I can tell
These are the reasons I think that we’re ill
I hardly know you, I think I can tell
These are the reasons I think that I’m ill
And the gods that he believes never fail to disappoint me
And the birds are singing to calm us down
And the birds are singing to calm us down

They’ve stolen the moon
The magic is gone
And there in it’s place
A black midnight sun
The darkness is frightening
And love is denied

They’ve stolen the moon
God only knows why

The stars have lost their daughter
The devil’s thieves have won
And there in her place
A black midnight sun

How many times have you heard someone say,
“If I had money, I would do things my way.”
But little they know, that it’s so hard to find
one rich man in ten, with a satisfied mind.

Money can’t buy back all your youth when you’re old, 
a friend when you’re lonely, or peace to your soul.
The wealthiest person, is a pauper at times
compared to the man with a satisfied mind.

When my life is over and my time has run out,
my friends and my loved ones, I will leave there’s no doubt.
But one thing’s for certain, when it comes my time,
I’ll leave this old world with a satisfied mind.
But one thing’s for certain, when it comes my time,
I’ll leave this old world with a satisfied mind mind mind, mind mind,
satisfied mind.

-Esta canción deberá sonar en mi funeral [si es que tengo]

Un suicida trastabilla en el balcón

en su vida tuvo tanta emoción.

Un idiota se quiere conformar

con la mentira de tener la verdad.

El literato muere por escribir,

gastar tinta es más fácil que vivir.

Cuanta mierda sin flotar,

contamina el fondo del mar,

extraño hábito el de bucear.

Una puta  no me quiere besar

dice que se podría enamorar.

Un cretino que se parece a mí

prefiere su beso y no princesas naif.