marzo 15, 2010
La realidad de : Gray Butterfly 1 Pequeños detalles
junio 05, 2009
junio 01, 2009
mayo 25, 2009
mayo 13, 2009
CienSonetosDeAmor.
Soneto IV
Recordarás aquella quebrada caprichosa
a donde los aromas palpitantes treparon,
de cuando en cuando un pájaro vestido
con agua y lentitud: traje de invierno.
Recordarás los dones de la tierra:
irascible fragancia, barro de oro,
hierbas del matorral, locas raíces,
sortílegas espinas como espadas.
Recordarás el ramo que trajiste,
ramo de sombra y agua con silencio,
ramo como una piedra con espuma.
Y aquella vez fue como nunca y siempre:
vamos allí donde no espera nada
y hallamos todo lo que está esperando.
♥
Pablo Neruda.
La realidad de : Gray Butterfly 1 Pequeños detalles
mayo 09, 2009
I can’t tell you something that ain’t real.
Let me hold you
For the last time
It’s the last chance to feel again
But you broke me
Now I can’t feel anything
When I love you
It’s so untrue
I can’t even convince myself
When I’m speaking
It’s the voice of someone else
Oh it tears me up
I tried to hold but it hurts too much
I tried to forgive but it’s not enough
To make it all okay
You can’t play on broken strings
You can’t feel anything
That your heart don’t want to feel
I can’t tell you something that ain’t real
Oh the truth hurts
A lie is worse
I can’t like it anymore
And I love you a little less than before
Oh what are we doing
We are turning into dust
Playing house in the ruins of us
Running back through the fire
When there’s nothing left to save
It’s like chasing the very last train
When it’s too late
Oh it tears me up
I tried to hold but it hurts too much
I tried to forgive but it’s not enough
To make it all okay
You can’t play our broken strings
You can’t feel anything
That your heart don’t want to feel
I can’t tell you something that ain’t real
Oh the truth hurts
And lies worse
I can’t like it anymore
And I love you a little less than before
But we’re running through the fire
When there’s nothing left to say
It’s like chasing the very last train
When we both know it’s too late
You can’t play our broken strings
You can’t feel anything
That your heart don’t want to feel
I can’t tell you something that ain’t real
Oh the truth hurts
And lies worse
I can’t like it anymore
And I love you a little less than before
Oh and I love you a little less than before
Let me hold you for the last time It’s the last chance to feel again ♪
La realidad de : Gray Butterfly 1 Pequeños detalles









