"Yo no protesto pormigo porque soy muy poca cosa, reclamo porque a la fosa van las penas del mendigo. A Dios pongo por testigo de que no me deje mentir, no hace falta salir un metro fuera de la casa para ver lo que aquí nos pasa y el dolor que es el vivir." (Violeta Parra en Décimas, autobiografía en versos)

viernes, 8 de enero de 2010


I don’t want to play again this game.
You look like the best promise ever.
And I won’t ever take that place
Like a long night not gone, never.

I have wanted many things.
Dancing on the alcohol grade,
Of your imagination, traveler.
Cry happily along this day.

I wanted once lose my memory
Lose my mind of dead neurons zillionaire
I wanted God helped me to get you
And I got you torn apart by the air.

English, translated into you
Poetry made a little bit of love
Glance built of doubts bad done.
Weak block that concerns you.

My mind have been drunk for many hours
And tomorrow it will be sober again
I will be completely yours
And I’ll want you are mine again.

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