Walking Around (original Spanish) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCBCCBCCCBBCDEFDFCFB BCGCBFFDHCBBCCDBCDCC DDBBC D F BDCDC CCFCC CDB CDBDID JKLD DGCM NBFDD DCDBB CDDCBFC CNOCBDN

Original Spanish can someone provide the titleA
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Sucede que me canso de ser hombreB
Sucede que entro en las sastrer as y en los cinesC
marchito impenetrable como un cisne de fieltroB
Navegando en un agua de origen y cenizaC
El olor de las peluquer as me hace llorar a gritosC
S lo quiero un descanso de piedras o de lanaB
s lo quiero no ver establecimientos ni jardinesC
ni mercader as ni anteojos ni ascensoresC
Sucede que me canso de mis pies y mis u asC
y mi pelo y mi sombraB
Sucede que me canso de ser hombreB
Sin embargo ser a deliciosoC
asustar a un notario con un lirio cortadoD
o dar muerte a una monja con un golpe de orejaE
Ser a belloF
ir por las calles con un cuchillo verdeD
y dando gritos hasta morir de fr oF
No quiero seguir siendo ra z en las tinieblasC
vacilante extendido tiritando de sue oF
hacia abajo en las tapias mojadas de la tierraB
absorbiendo y pensando comiendo cada d aB
No quiero para m tantas desgraciasC
No quiero continuar de ra z y de tumbaG
de subterr neo solo de bodega con muertosC
ateridos muri ndome de penaB
Por eso el d a lunes arde como el petr leoF
cuando me ve llegar con mi cara de c rcelF
y a lla en su transcurso como una rueda heridaD
y da pasos de sangre caliente hacia la nocheH
Y me empuja a ciertos rincones a ciertas casas h medasC
a hospitales donde los huesos salen por la ventanaB
a ciertas zapater as con olor a vinagreB
a calles espantosas como grietasC
Hay p jaros de color de azufre y horribles intestinosC
colgando de las puertas de las casas que odioD
hay dentaduras olvidadas en una cafeteraB
hay espejosC
que debieran haber llorado de verg enza y espantoD
hay paraguas en todas partes y venenos y ombligosC
Yo paseo con calma con ojos con zapatosC
con furia con olvidoD
paso cruzo oficinas y tiendas de ortopediaD
y patios donde hay ropas colgadas de un alambreB
calzoncillos toallas y camisas que lloranB
lentas l grimas suciasC
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Pablo NerudaD
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English Translation of Walking Around by Robert BlyF
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It so happens I am sick of being a manB
And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movieD
housesC
dried up waterproof like a swan made of feltD
steering my way in a water of wombs and ashesC
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The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarseC
sobsC
The only thing I want is to lie still like stones or woolF
The only thing I want is to see no more stores no gardensC
no more goods no spectacles no elevatorsC
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It so happens that I am sick of my feet and my nailsC
and my hair and my shadowD
It so happens I am sick of being a manB
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Still it would be marvelousC
to terrify a law clerk with a cut lilyD
or kill a nun with a blow on the earB
It would be greatD
to go through the streets with a green knifeI
letting out yells until I died of the coldD
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I don't want to go on being a root in the darkJ
insecure stretched out shivering with sleepK
going on down into the moist guts of the earthL
taking in and thinking eating every dayD
-
I don't want so much miseryD
I don't want to go on as a root and a tombG
alone under the ground a warehouse with corpsesC
half frozen dying of griefM
-
That's why Monday when it sees me comingN
with my convict face blazes up like gasolineB
and it howls on its way like a wounded wheelF
and leaves tracks full of warm blood leading toward theD
nightD
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And it pushes me into certain corners into some moistD
housesC
into hospitals where the bones fly out the windowD
into shoeshops that smell like vinegarB
and certain streets hideous as cracks in the skinB
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There are sulphur colored birds and hideous intestinesC
hanging over the doors of houses that I hateD
and there are false teeth forgotten in a coffeepotD
there are mirrorsC
that ought to have wept from shame and terrorB
there are umbrellas everywhere and venoms and umbilicalF
cordsC
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I stroll along serenely with my eyes my shoesC
my rage forgetting everythingN
I walk by going through office buildings and orthopedicO
shopsC
and courtyards with washing hanging from the lineB
underwear towels and shirts from which slowD
dirty tears are fallingN

Pablo Neruda



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damaris Luckey: That is the tittle.

 

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