The Dictators

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    <strong>The Dictators</strong>

    An odor has remained among the sugare:

    a mixture of>..</a> blood and body, a peing

    petal that brings nausea.

    Between the ut palms the graves are full

    of ruined bones, of speechless death-rattles.

    The delicate dictator is talking

    with top hats,bbr></abbr> gold braid, and collars.

    The tiny palace gleams like a watch

    and the rapid laughs with gloves on

    cross the corridors at times

    and join the dead voices

    and the blue mouths freshly buried.

    The weeping ot be seen, like a plant

    whose seeds fall endlessly on the earth,

    whos<big></big>e large blind leaves grow even without light.

    Hatred has grown scale on scale,

    blow on blow, in the gh.ly water of the s,

    with a snout full of ooze and silence

    <strong>Pablo Neruda</strong>

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