Mexico primitivo I

Aqui esta una prueba de que no debo pasar demasiado tiempo en un ambiente calido y heterosexual ... tiendo a cometer actos infames ...




Continuara... [ si, lo lamento pero hay mucho que contar]

To scrf-frk [O lo que es lo mismo de Güilermo para mi hace un par de años de una noche con lluvia]

I

I said I did, if just for a while,
But how could I? A man —or was it
A boy— who comes home after so long
Cannot evoke such fits or strains
Of feeling or heart in one
Who hopes to see him back.

He travelled through eve, when Sky’s
Stained red, and pink, not grey,
And streaked with violet the way.
He carried a bag with three
Pairs of pants, and no number of hats,
For he came before me only at night.

Borrowèd shades covered his eyes,
Not those shades that come with Dawn,
But those that cover and protect
Naïve brown eyes from sudden light.
Such shades he wore as he sped along
Desert’s Halls to come back home.

How could I if, when he approached
His home, he did nought more than
Bring Home to this weary heart?


II

Tonight it is taken from me: my Home,
My Heart, those things for which
I lived last night, fade. Once more
I stand over the broken trunk; I am
Not faun but a wolf, and howl to Moon,
Who last night hid behind his eyes,
I howl for Home shall not be mine.

My Home escapes with him. He moves
Away and leaves no Rain. He moves
Away, desert again, but not for him
—O no! For he belongs to it—
It is for me! It’s I that shall miss
The rain: for sweet it brought the Kiss.

I find my soul barren, my feet soar.
I find my self untrodden, who else
—O who else!— shall trod a desert
He built for pleasure of his own.
He brought Home to me as Rain brought
Kiss, the bliss I long for.

How could I? For him I’m wasted land,
But I wait for Rain —O, I wait
For it will bring him back!


III

He stayed three nights, the third
I did not see. He came Home from
One desert to another —for such I was.
He came Home and brought one too
—For Home he became to me.
A flower bloomed under the rain,
I call it Kiss; he cut it by the stem.

He took the button, I hold to the root.
Stem in a vase, He examines the cup
As He speeds through Desert’s Halls.
He returns holding Beauty by the stem,
Back to Desert, but He leaves one as well!
I took Kiss’s root but not a weed will bloom
On the barren, wasted Desert of my Self.

Desert waited twenty years —or was
It twenty and one— for Rain to arrive.
Rain came, He brought it in a flask,
And the so-long-waited Kiss it felt
Over it’s patched lips and dry.
Then He parted, left Desert alone:
‘Hate you if just for a while’ it cried.

But how could I? Silly Desert, can’t you
See it was ‘cause of him that you and I
Became alive if just for a little while?

Guillermo de León González

Por que te quiero amor, por que te quiero

Tal parece que regreso a este sitio solo a escribir tristezas, rompimientos y esbozos de promesas no cumplidas.

Ya conozco el camino, es menos complicado, pero no mas dificil. Y con una sonrisa idiota agradeciendo esa noche de noviembre en que te conoci, en que nos besamos y estos meses cuando llegue a pensar que esta era la buena, que ahora si sucederia. Si sucedio, fue real, pero jamas nadie dijo que sera por siempre. Asi es esto de la fugacidad.

Y aun con humedad en el pecho no puedo dejar de sentir paz, por un amor que se va, pero que fue unico e irrepetible, hermoso, que comenzo y termino en si mismo, sin obstaculos externos, por lo menos en lo que a mi concierne.

Adios amor, adios.

What a Wonderful World...

Por lo pronto

no se quien soy, no se de donde vengo, no se que hago ni para donde voy.


hago cosas estupidas, soy un saboteador, un saboteador de mi mismo, y un enamoradizo.

te amo, se que te amo, y no lo quisiera, pero estoy dispuesto a verte partir.

"I hope you dont mind,

I hope you dont mind,

That I put down in words,

How wonderful life is now you're in the world!"


... y es verdad querida hermana Pato, me enamoro en cuestion de nano segundos ... pero quisiera creer que no es algo hecho, una construccion, es un jardin, quizas de hongos por la velocidad con que nace, crece y se reproduce ... quizas por eso tambien muere tan pronto.


Esperanzado Beto.

Principe de Egipto

"El sentido dramatico es la alfombra roja para las botargas, representa el camino previo que recorren hacia lo inevitable."