Poem in Hindi translated into English* and Spanish** – Poema en Hindi traducido al inglés* y al español**


Abhishek Kiran Dani




Again, after another journey, I am standing on the same door

with restlessness: Should I go in or out, another world to explore?

I am afraid to approach the bright light that is ahead

in the familiar darkness inside, now I feel, I can rest my head.


De nuevo, después de otro viaje, estoy de pie frente a la misma puerta

con inquietud: ¿Debo entrar o salir, otro mundo por descubrir?

Tengo miedo de acercarme a la luz brillante que me espera

en la oscuridad familiar de adentro, siento ahora, puedo descansar mi cabeza.


*In the attached image you can see how the original poem in Hindi looks like. I would like to express my immense gratitude to Abhishek Kiran Dani (Abhi), the talented author of this poem. Abhi kindly helped me to translate his work into words that people from many places could understand.

Although it is impossible to translate the visual beauty of this unique poem, I hope these words can help you to nourish your powerful imagination.


**En la imagen adjunta puedes ver cómo se ve el poema original en Hindi. Estoy inmensamente agradecido con el talentoso autor de este poema, Abhishek Kiran Dani (Abhi), por ayudarme a traducir su trabajo en palabras que personas de muchos lugares pueden entender.

Aunque es imposible traducir la belleza visual de este poema único, espero que estas palabras te ayuden a alimentar tu poderosa imaginación.


El Matallana

Sea of November


A sea of mercury in Malta
and the wind moves bluish greys:

My life is like a memory,
I don’t know where my past has gone,
not much of my future is left

I’ve never been too safe,
I’ve never known what I’ve done,
neither the old love never fading
nor the new love now lurking

There is no time in my life
but there is life in my time
the lively waves of this day
ignore the dead ones from yesterday.

El Matallana

Mar de noviembre


Un mar de mercurio en Malta
y el viento mueve grises azulados:

Mi vida parece un recuerdo,
no sé a dónde ha ido mi pasado,
queda poco hoy de mi futuro

Nunca he estado muy seguro,
nunca he sabido lo que he hecho,
ni aquel amor nunca olvidado
ni este nuevo ya al acecho

Pasa veloz el tiempo en mi vida
pero hay mucha vida en mi tiempo,
las vivas olas de este día
ignoran las de ayer que han muerto.

El Matallana

Description XI

«Yes I feel the same way, we connected deeply and that is very meaningful for me in this world so full of superficiality. Looking forward to more experiences together that the future will bring!

Glad to hear you are enjoying Malta, I think you will find that you are just at the beginning of something greater than you had imagined, just continue to be honest, healthy, and put one foot in front of the other and you will surprise yourself later with what you have accomplished.

I liked both poems that you sent, both very honest well spoken and relatable.

Berlin is going along just fine. Same mandala of craziness and peace spinning in my brain. The summer has been beautiful, I’ve really let go of a lot of negative energies and am happy to be seeing some evidence of progress with myself in my goals of becoming a better human being. Releasing an EP of electronic music in late October which will be a load off my mind to be finished with, and hoping to have a very creatively productive fall and winter.

Thank you for the invitation! Let’s see how im feeling come the dark cold months here in Berlin and maybe you might be able to convince me to come for a little while to visit after all ahaha, until then lots of love from Berlin!»

Alex – 29.09.2016

Pupila mortal – Mortal pupil



No es el lugar

soy yo y mis múltiples duelos

mis agazapados, sordos deseos

y el más oscuro anhelo

del abismo más allá de nuestros cuerpos

en la pupila mortal que observa el miedo

o la oscuridad voraz que engulle el tiempo.


It is not the place

it is me and my multiple griefs

my crouching, deaf desires

and the most obscure longing

for the abyss beyond our bodies

in the mortal pupil observing fear

or the voracious darkness swallowing time.


El Matallana

Life is the game

«Life is the game that must be played:
This truth at least, good friend, we know;
So live and laugh, nor be dismayed
As one by one the phantoms go.»

Ballad By The Fire – Edwin Arlington Robinson (1869 – 1935)


General info:




Our kiss


I know they also told you
about fear
and hate
us being excluded
from their feast
from our fate
from our fading eternity

You learned very well how to hide
and eventually forgot
that longing
for truth
and denied
a lovely place in our smile
where our life is our destiny

Our kiss is the kiss
from that time
when the first two were really surprised
finding darkness, sadness
and light
beyond one’s cage of body or mind
caressing chaos with synergy.

El Matallana

Flowers and love



There were flowers

before I thought about flowers

when I went back to valleys and gardens

all was already long gone


There was love

before I knew about love

when I understood what had happened

I found myself on my own


El Matallana


Public pervert

If time is my vessel, then learning to love

might be my way back to sea

The flying, the metal, the turning above,

these are just ways to be seen…


We all get paid,

yeah some get faith before they die,

then through stars we will navigate

through the holes in your eyes…


How many days will it take to land?

How many ways to reach abandon?

Oh, abandon


Oh, so swoon, baby, starry nights,

may our bodies remain

You move with me, I’ll treat you right, baby,

may our bodies remain


There is love to be made,

so just stay here for this while.

Perhaps heartstrings resuscitate,

the fading sounds of your life…


How many days will it take to land?

How many ways to reach abandon?

Oh, abandon


So swoon baby starry nights,

may our bodies remain

As deep we move, I’ll feed you light, baby,

may our bodies remain

Oh yeah in history, I’ll treat you right, baby,

I’m honest that way, hey!


Swoon baby starry nights,

may our bodies remain…


Interpol (1997) – Public Pervert, Antics (2004)

Reflections – Reflejos



The distance in the night

revels the universe

and the tired city

is a reflection of yellow stars


La distancia en la noche

revela el universo

y la ciudad cansada

es un reflejo de estrellas amarillas


El Matallana