XLIII
What’s this! After all the good I did for Spain,
You ought to kiss my footprints. No ─ instead,
You lock me like a criminai to a chain.
You treat me like I’d knocked someone in the head.
You’re not a king, you’re a hangman ─ hey, I mean a
King should have blood of tigers in his veins.
You! Blood of a tiger! Blood of a hyena!
Do you even have a heart! Do you have brains!!
After everything I’ve done for you,
Discovered a world and gave it to you, too,
You say, “Look at that poor lunatic.”
But you’re the lunatic, you know. You’re sick!
Fraud! Pig! Coward! Son of a bitch!
Come out, I’ll beat the bullshit out of you!
(Translated by John Du Val)