If you can't sleep, get up and browse.
If you do not know death follows learning to love.
Dawn does not close your world: outside there are stars,
hospitals, huge machines that don't sleep.
Outside are your soup, the warehouse that feeds your senses
the wind in your city. Get up and turn on
the turbines of your soul, do not tire of walking
everywhere, scoring the latest filth
that you left your land, because everything is transformed
and you no longer have eyes for the abolished horror.
Get up and multiply the windows, spit in the face
of unbelievers: for them all green is rust.
Shoot your language of Victor, not only expect the quiet table
while elsewhere in the world, chillan killers.
If you can not dream hits the dusty trunks.
If you do not know live do not teach to live in vain.
Grinds the reality, break your shoes listening streets,
do not give alms. Stand up and help the world to wake up