Desatar las voces, desensoñar los sueños: escribo
queriendo revelar lo real maravilloso, y descubro
lo real maravilloso en el exacto centro de lo real
horroroso de América.
En estas tierras, la cabeza del dios Eleggúa lleva la muerte
en la nuca y la vida en la cara. Cada promesa es una ame-
naza y cada pérdida, un encuentro. De los miedos nacen los
corajes; y de las dudas, las certezas. Los sueños anuncian
otra realidad posible y los delirios, otra razón.
Al fin y al cabo, somos lo que hacemos para cambiar lo
que somos. La identidad no es una pieza de museo, quiete-
cita en una vitrina, sino la siempre asombrosa síntesis de las
contradicciones nuestras de cada día.
[...]
"El libro de los abrazos"
Eduardo Galeano
Laura Gorre
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta de dentro hacia fuera. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta de dentro hacia fuera. Mostrar todas las entradas
06 noviembre, 2011
13 julio, 2011
suppose
Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.
young death sits in a cafe
smiling, a pierce of money held between
his thumb and first finger
(i say "will he buy flowers" to you
and "Death is young
life wears velour trousers
life totters, life has a beard" i
say to you who are silent.--"Do you see
Life? he is there and here,
or that, or this
or nothing or an old man 3 thirds
asleep, on his head
flowers, always crying
to nobody something about les
roses les bluets
yes,
will He buy?
Les belles bottes--oh hear
, pas cheres")
and my love slowly answered I think so. But
I think I see someone else
there is a lady, whose name is Afterwards
she is sitting beside young death, is slender;
likes flowers.
e. e. cummings
Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.
young death sits in a cafe
smiling, a pierce of money held between
his thumb and first finger
(i say "will he buy flowers" to you
and "Death is young
life wears velour trousers
life totters, life has a beard" i
say to you who are silent.--"Do you see
Life? he is there and here,
or that, or this
or nothing or an old man 3 thirds
asleep, on his head
flowers, always crying
to nobody something about les
roses les bluets
yes,
will He buy?
Les belles bottes--oh hear
, pas cheres")
and my love slowly answered I think so. But
I think I see someone else
there is a lady, whose name is Afterwards
she is sitting beside young death, is slender;
likes flowers.
e. e. cummings
Etiquetas:
de dentro hacia fuera,
from the lost generation,
Poesía
08 julio, 2011
Lady of Silence
from the winsome cage of
thy body
rose
through the sensible
night
a
quick bird
(tenderly upon
the dark’s prodigious face
thy
voice
scattering perfume-gifted
wings
suddenly escorts
with feet
sun-sheer
the smarting beauty of dawn)
E. E. Cummings
from the winsome cage of
thy body
rose
through the sensible
night
a
quick bird
(tenderly upon
the dark’s prodigious face
thy
voice
scattering perfume-gifted
wings
suddenly escorts
with feet
sun-sheer
the smarting beauty of dawn)
E. E. Cummings
Etiquetas:
Cambios con humor,
de dentro hacia fuera,
from the lost generation,
Poesía
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