.. for me there is some jail when the moon and the sun does not feel. That is another kind of freedom .
crying Casida
I closed my balcony because I want to hear the cries
but behind the gray walls
nothing is heard but the weeping.
There are very few angels that sing,
very few dogs that bark,
thousand violins fit in the palm of my hand.
But the weeping is an immense dog,
crying is a huge angel,
crying is an immense violin,
wind tears
gag and nothing is heard but the weeping.
García Lorca
.. and I'll go, perhaps, trip, knowing that my soul petals smile because I do not like the poetry of glass.
crying Casida
I closed my balcony because I want to hear the cries
but behind the gray walls
nothing is heard but the weeping.
There are very few angels that sing,
very few dogs that bark,
thousand violins fit in the palm of my hand.
But the weeping is an immense dog,
crying is a huge angel,
crying is an immense violin,
wind tears
gag and nothing is heard but the weeping.
García Lorca
.. and I'll go, perhaps, trip, knowing that my soul petals smile because I do not like the poetry of glass.
* Smile My diary is hidden in my soul, not of regrets. My daily expected. If not today then tomorrow. That's it.
PS For Jenny : Happy Birthday, I hope a lot of coal for you:). But above all, lots of smiles, gifts and health. All that you deserve and more. A kiss from this parallel world.
