ALCOFARADO,
Mariana. Cartas de amor. Y soy más feliz que tú, porque
amo mi propio amor. Mi amor ya no depende del modo como me trates.
ALONSO, Dámaso. Hijos
de
la ira (‘En el día de los difuntos’). Porque sé que en el fondo,
entre
los peces de colores, / está la muerte.
ANOUILH, Jean. La
salvaje,
II. Sí, ahora que estoy desesperada, me he escapado de ti,
Florent. Acabo de entrar en un reino donde nunca has estado, donde no
podrías
seguirme para recobrarme. Porque no sabes lo que es sufrir y hundirse.
No sabes
lo que es perderse, ensuciarse, encenegarse. No sabes nada humano,
Florent.
Esas arrugas, ¿qué penas las han trazado? Nunca tuviste un verdadero
dolor, un
dolor vergonzoso como un mal que supura. Nunca has odiado a nadie, se te
ve en
los ojos, ni siquiera a los que te han hecho daño.
.Donde las cenizas y el viento aún son árboles que juegan a desvanecer el tiempo. En esta estación invisible hay momentos congelados que al fragmentarse, dejan ruinas en la aurora.
jueves, 7 de abril de 2011
When I come undone
Sometimes I dream...
I dream that I can burn all my fears
Dream with paper flowers and the most biggest tree
Dream to make a river with all my tears.
Dream my hair moreee Red (Cause' is black)
and my soul more Blue.
I dream that Robert smith gives me a draw
I dream a real friend
A real Luv
A real face.
I dream to have a beautiful voice
I dream to drive the yellow submarine of The beatles
or I can be confort with knows their Strawberry fields.
I dream to kiss a girl
I dream to forget almost all except my favorite music and books.
I dream with a world less blind. (But I am too)
I dream to have a fucking happy life without money
(wait... I'm alive?)
I dream to see more than the mirror shows me everyday
Dream to love myself first... (But I still care first for the heart of another bastard)
I dream to have less and make less and wait less and lie less and life less and Be less
(But the question.... Am I waiting?)
¿Amm I lying?
¿Am I making something?
¿Am I living?
¿Am I somebody?
Sometimes I dream.... but ...
But the morning always come to kill the dream....
I dream that I can burn all my fears
Dream with paper flowers and the most biggest tree
Dream to make a river with all my tears.
Dream my hair moreee Red (Cause' is black)
and my soul more Blue.
I dream that Robert smith gives me a draw
I dream a real friend
A real Luv
A real face.
I dream to have a beautiful voice
I dream to drive the yellow submarine of The beatles
or I can be confort with knows their Strawberry fields.
I dream to kiss a girl
I dream to forget almost all except my favorite music and books.
I dream with a world less blind. (But I am too)
I dream to have a fucking happy life without money
(wait... I'm alive?)
I dream to see more than the mirror shows me everyday
Dream to love myself first... (But I still care first for the heart of another bastard)
I dream to have less and make less and wait less and lie less and life less and Be less
(But the question.... Am I waiting?)
¿Amm I lying?
¿Am I making something?
¿Am I living?
¿Am I somebody?
Sometimes I dream.... but ...
But the morning always come to kill the dream....
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)