Below you can read seven poems translated into English from the book ‘Project Nemesis’ (Part One), published in May 2024 and part of a trilogy in development. The translation was done through two software tools and revised by English speakers.
The aim of the translation is to give more people the opportunity to get to know this work, and the immediate plan is to produce a full translation of the book, including all the content of the original.
This translation was carried out in March 2025. The final result is good as far as translations of poems go, I used more than three different software programs that use AI to try to get the best results.
You can find the paper or Kindle version of this book on Amazon through the following link:
📘 View book on Amazon
And don't forget the audio channel with poems read by the author:
🔊 Audio Poems
📖 Poems in PDF to Download
Poems:
Second Temporal
Searching for lost time
Sometimes it brings more excitement
than finding the real time
The stories that are woven
They shelter a horizon
who is topped in crowds
They generate smoke that goes down chimneys
and forces you to light bonfires
the sensation in the mouth
burns the tongue
and temporary persons
talk in real time
An archer, in bed, pale and trembling
An effective action, in the pocket
Sticks to build a stick bridge
that are crossing the lake son of all the seas
a night in time
a kiss during the night
Shuffle the immediate and with rocks
to give weight
and collect tons of useless time
sky satellite plane
Finding lost time
Defending against temporary situations
That they are crossing at a gallop
The farellones
The pavements
Traffic lights hanging on the wall
that separates the hours into two
Time smells like it's going to die
and life looking for the hidden watch
Frontier prairie
Wolf Prairie
Hidden under the dust and speeding, crazed ambulances
Horse Spins
Hat for the sun's rays (friend of other stars)
Leaves do not fall
But ideas do
And they're trampled
By Men's Footwear
Soils that destroy blank sheets
I wanted to see the border
Wrinkling a freshly written paper
An Aborted Letter Attempt at Last
Traveling many kilometers
The space that separates Proxima Centauri from the train station
Under heavy rain, like that of egonauts
Prairies that give a good day
I wanted to see the bottom of the abyss
Where cathedrals burn and nuns watch
with a sense of peace
An arrow flies and moves forward
On the border
In the distance a sea, fodder for the stars
That they undress and give themselves to the waves
I wanted to reach the border
No holes in the shoes that crushed hundreds of leaves
Fed up with walls, blinded by youth
I wanted to see the border
Stone
The man wondered about the whole
During twilight
Natural and successive transition
Between days and nights
And that it supposes an ephemeral beauty of colors
A translation to another state
Thoughts were born
It was a circle of beliefs
An attempt to settle a debt
of making the future
It was the humans
They thought about fire
That each town tied up
From the first clans
They thought about water
Where history is abolished
And that blesses in the face of diabolical stalking
of Heat
They gave themselves time to think in groups
And understand the message of their shields
Man wondered about the All
Memories flew by Over
the Earth under their bodies
Dozens of questions are over
And machines were turned on
to Steam, to fuel, to fire and sword
Everything moves on an immense stone
Capsule
Returning from the journey to cardinal points
Resurrect from Chaos
In the ark of arithmetic progression
In the village of daggers – instinct
A tower
The Bone Arsenal
Mummifying laughter
About Samuel the Traveler
Capsule
Blood powder
Scratching the patrol
Delivering death certificates
Pre-preter the pains
Where there was pressure
Where camps – daggers
And – are – the horses
The overwhelm of Priapus
Channeling body wraps
Millions
A lot of biotime remembered
Capsule
Samuel the traveler
To the attack of borders
And kneeling
Apologizing for the delay
Pain mimic
Embalmed in holy faces
Clerical intrigues
Weather, the capsule
Flying square routes get lost
Geocentric blood sprouts from the world's new disorder
Infinite Rhythm
A rhythm moves your heart
A stone presses every idea
Inside your brain
From the deepes
of darkness
Where death reigns
Where the will
It is confused with desire
And the tears burn
Before birth
Because of the bleak panorama
Where there are no kings or princesses
Where ashes cover flowering fields
That they never existed
Covering the apples
Who observe the corpses
A river runs through your heart
Bring water and bring rocks
Every rock squeezes your chest
The darkest and deepest part of your pineal gland
An organ full of hate
It will repeat until forever
The echo of the rhythm that moves your body
That moves that heart
Getting stronger
Serious Pressures
Vulcan, the divine blacksmith
hammered on the metal
the sword I carry in me
The virtues of this era
are framed in my face
scream forged
and whenever it's necessary
i walk the islands of my thinking
not to forget
my trade
The Virtue of Heroes
resonates at the same time
in various sectors of the day
and imitation destroys
that symbol of strength
Older than the law
is the queen of moments
that governs the meat
about which two theories are raised
one where we listen
the deepest rumors
of the body limit
The second says that the troop
with discouragement
waiting in the fog
both clinging to the bones
A rapist of mental neatness
must be punished with love
calibrate we can
the charm of their resentments
combat
the pulse of its shadows
listen
the sound of his footsteps
Deus Irae
People change
and it is necessary to have a mixed notion
of life and death
Fly over the images to understand them maybe a little
Used to lying to each other
With the immediate mission circulating
Among the people who change
Who carries a mission on earth
and sometimes they play recorders at will
and sometimes a woman fails
Two very different things
It is complex to define the circulation of failure
Fear assails those who do not hear the sound of his burial
Love divides the reason of the one who gathers to pray to Nemesis
And its deepest reason
It incarnates at the end of the road
Where nothingness is not a philosophical matter
Notions of life and death
Predators in parallel to prey
Victims in Parallel to Survivors
Voices in parallel to silences
Building a destination that refreshes the soul
A mixed notion of life and death
Countless massacres we have eaten
Chewing them with the circular understandings
And finding the connections to the world that drowns us
Appropriating external meditations
That hurt our control of reality
As the playwright
That gives birth to a very old story: Life
Vibrates the tragic end of a life/body
Poetic liberation from the passage to death/being
How many steps are there between life and eternity?
The phenomenon of the soul translating a tornado body
The Death The Whole The Being
The desire of the intangible body vibrates in it
Rolling through space/force
And the wrath of God vibrates in me
That keeps me That begs me That watches me
Which shows that my subject matter changes
Yes Change
One day body Another day Being
A mixed position
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