URBE: METROPOLIS: BOLSHEVIK SUPER-POEM IN 5 CANTOS
II

This new profoundness of the scene
is a projection toward interior mirages.

The resounding crowd
today overruns the communal plazas
and the triumphal hurrahs
of obregonismo
reverberate from the façades to the sun.

O romantic girl
flare-up of gold!

                                Maybe between my hands
                                only living moments remained.
Landscapes dressed in yellow
fell asleep behind the windowpanes,
and the city, rapt,
has remained trembling in the rigging.
Applauses are that barrier.

—Oh God!
                    —Never fear, it’s the romantic wave of the multitudes.
Afterward, over the overflows of silence,
the Tarahumara night will go expanding.
                                Extinguish your shop windows.
Within the machinery of insomnia,
lust, are millions of eyes
that smear themselves on flesh.

                                A steel bird
                                has emprowed its aim toward a star
The port:
                                inflamed distances,
                                smoke of industrial plants.
                                Over clotheslines of music
                                her remembrance suns itself.
A transatlantic farewell leapt from the gunwale.

Motors sing
over the dead panorama.