MY MOUNTAINS QUEEN.

I

THERE, AT THE HIGHEST POINT OF MY RANGE,

THE PEAK OF THE HUASCARAN

PROTECTED BY FOUR STONES,

PAINTED OF WHITELY SNOW.

AT THE SAME PLACE,

WHERE OUR SOULS WILL RETURN.

BETWEEN CLOUDS SLEPT…MY CONDOR IN BLUE.

BEAUTYFUL STEALTHY OF THE ICES.

THAT WAIT IN SILENCE FOR YOUR FLIGHTS.

KEEPING ITS EYES IN OUR DREAMS

WRAPPED IN A SHAWL,

DRESSED AS PLUMAGES OF SKIES

TO AWAKE THE SUN, IN THE SKYLINE OF MY SEAS.

OF MY BEAUTYFUL ANDES,

ARE YOU HUNGRY ?...I’M YOUR NOURISHMENT DEAD.

EAT MY LOVELY CONDOR !

FIRST MY EYES, AFTER THAT… MY TONGUE.

THEN…MY TENDER HEART.

AND, WHEN YOU EAT MY SOUL ! .

WE’LL RAISE THE LAST FLIGHT.

IN THE LAST ALATED TRIP.

YOU KNOW WHERE.

AT THE ZENIT OF HUASCARAN.