Objects

Men, my friend
are so many objects of our will.

They are useful to us,
and once they are filled with our taste of gall
worn out, old, blind or deaf
we throw them one by one
into the basket of dead leaves
into the automobile cemetery
into the concentration camp
or we exchange them with our allies
or our enemies
for other objects.

Men, my friend!

Traslated from Spanish by Rowena Hill