rhymes from the dirty palette

numeros, la economia,
la farsa de la palabra,
los nervos azules son
no se' porqui - tambien rojos
pero meno de color

por los numeros pedomasi
y los nervos coloridos
las estrellos estan leohas

yo no quisera abrigas
ni la menor esperanga
todo se muere al compas
se lo que enciera la panza

----

numbers, the economy
the farce of words,
nerves are blue.
i don't know why - also red,
but full of colour

through the round numbers
and the coloured nerves
the stars are made
and the worlds are sounds.

i would not wish to harbour
the slightest hope,
everything moves to the beat
of what's enclosed in the belly.

by Magdalena Carmen Frieda Kahlo y Calderó

from the book The Diary of Frida Kahlo

rhymes from the dirty palette - my tribute to frida kahlo ♥
explosion of thoughts in the time of dawn and it disrupt me the most. Can't seem to accept money as the world's simplest yet deadly problem. We're all going to die, my dear. We're about to decay, the time would destroy our skin, slowly but sure. And the maggots would creep to the flesh, soon... soon... soon...