Lake Chapala Poem
It was very late at night when I found her,
sad and heartbroken. I asked her,
“What hurts you, my Mother?”
The lake, weeping, answered me:
“My most precious child,
my waters and my fish, I gave you,
I covered you with the scents of flowers.
Stars and romances you lived in me.
Sweet splashing when I felt you.
Your soul does not forget me, but your garbage does.”
All night, all day, attentive,
I heard a thousand stories that I had ignored.
Downtrodden and weary, she asked me,
“What happened to you that you treat me so?”
Anima de Pall
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