BAR&ANKÁS BLOG

My friend, my bosom friend. You kiero, you know that I am next to you although it it does not seem, in the distance I venerate you, learn with you.

The force, the astonishment and the anger, not to the apathy!!
No! to the sadness, together we will do the trip, together we will win, will go out of this darkness, will fly to the wind, the air will rub our cheeks.
The light will light our way, we will enjoy the pulp of the life.
We will savor forgotten feelings, while others worry about banal things you and I we will travel to the deepest of our being, to meet again.
The warm morning, the rubbing of the water in our face, the ground coffee, its sweet aroma of hearth, the wet firewood, the cut grass.
The shade of the sun, the cold street, the exhausted oldster.
The sad look of a destitute person, the wrinkled newspaper, the mask of iron, the dewdrops.
The smell of incense, the newborn baby, the prohibited love.
The broken moons, the covered with snow mountains, the face of a child crying, and an infinite way that the peregrinaje drives to us on the sly for the footpath, drinking the moments, our moments, my friend, I love you.

Because you are incombustible combatants.
Because I learned of you … TO LIVE.
From here a very strong kiss.

The fragility of the memory does that the sleep sometimes is not remembered. Other times there is the hardness of heart, the serviceability or the indolence those that, like a ballast, they brake and prevent from taking to term. An apathetic heart is worse than an infarction. The infarction for a living heart, the apathy is incompatible with the life. El infarto para un corazón vivo, la abulia es incompatible con la vida.

He was saying M. Benedetti:
The caresses of the sleep
they suffer from a defect
they have no tact.

Will it be true?: Of what color is it the sleep? To what do they know? How to be able to catch them without they escaping from us between the fingers like the waters of a creek? Why not to take the tact and all the senses to the sleep? ¿Cómo poder atraparlos sin que se nos escapen entre los dedos como las aguas de un arroyo? ¿Por qué no llevar el tacto y todos los sentidos a los sueños?

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All the times we will not have said …: You are playing with my feelings! Sincerely, we know what we are saying. It is possible that some of them / expert know it, especially when in them / ace (the feelings) is covered by them of black clouds our heart. To the thread of all this, there came to the memory a story that I read some time ago and that if it is allowed me, and you have the patience sufficient to read it I report it to you next. Es posible que algunos/as lo sepan, sobre todo cuando en ellos/as (los sentimientos) cubren de negras nubes nuestro corazón. Al hilo de todo esto, me vino a la memoria un cuento que leí hace tiempo y que si se me permite, y tenéis la paciencia suficiente para leerlo os lo relato a continuación.

I hope that you should like and that when we say …: You are playing with my feelings!, a smile puts itself us and rectifying let's say … Pardon, me these puteando vilely, so mamón/na.

I do not know, believe that, after reading the story (you already will say it to me in your comments), it goes more in consonance “me these puteando vilely …” that “you Are playing with my feelings”.

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