Estoy en la pista cómoda. Por el momento no despegaré.

martes, 20 de octubre de 2009

Irisaciones













El color es una circunstancia a la que no admitimos duda.
El blanco es blanco. El negro es negro. Black is black.
Y el amor es una caída venturosa de irisaciones permanentes, torzales llenos de color.




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miércoles, 14 de octubre de 2009

Crepúsculo










No por crepúsculo se retornan mis ojos.
Siempre verán. Si pueden, más allá de lo que alcancen.
El color siempre nos protege de la euforia del blanco. Aunque sea el negro.
Siempre color.





Did I work on the battlefield?
Did I do what I thought was right?
Did I do all that I could do?
Did I put up a good fight?

Did I love all that I should?
To everyone in my sight?
What did I do with my life?

Did I exercise giving
And forgiveness with all my might?
Did I honor my freedom
And did I live in the light?

Did I cherish my moments?
Did I take a good enough bite?
What did I do with my life?

You can live any way you wanna
All you have to do is dance
Achieve anything you thought of
You just have to take the chance
You can fall in love with your life
'Cause that truly is romance
What did I do with my life?

Did I learn what I came to learn?
Did I listen with my heart?
Did I do what I came to do?
And how did I play the part?
Did I see all the beauty?
Because living is an art
What did I do with my life?

You can live any way you wanna
All you have to do is dance
Achieve anything you thought of
You just have to take the chance
Learn to love your life
'Cause that truly is romance
Oh what did I do with my life?

What did I do?
Say it again
What did I do
With my life?
Oh
What did I do?

What did I do?
With my life
What did I do?
What did I do?

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viernes, 9 de octubre de 2009

Llorar sobre seguro








Llorar como lo haría una llama.
Prender en un extremo del aire un encuentro radiante. Y llorar.
Modos de iluminar, si se quiere, en su vertiente más acuosa.

lunes, 5 de octubre de 2009

Fuegos varios










Mi viejo amor.
¿Qué parte arde pensadamente? ¿Qué parte se debate en humo?
Viejo amor es estructura poderosa. Seguramente no es tan viejo.
¿Se nos renueva el viejo amor? ¿Hasta cuándo?




My old flame
I can't even think of her name
But it's funny now and then
How my thoughts go flashing back again
To my old flame.

My old flame
My new lovers all seem so tame
'Cause I haven't met a girl
So magnificent or elegant
As my old flame.

I've met so many who had fascinating ways
A fascinating gaze in their eyes
Some who took me up to the sky's
But their attempts at love
Were only imitations of.

My old flame
I can't even think of her name
But I'll never be the same
Until I discover what became
Of my old flame.

My old flame
I can't even think of her name
But I'll never be the same
Until I discover what became
Of my old flame.

My old flame...

jueves, 1 de octubre de 2009

Breves preguntas/preguntas verdes












El equivalente del musgo en nuestra piel, ¿qué sería?
El acampar del musgo entre las piedras, el revelarlas húmedas.
¿Seríamos sombríos si nos creciera el musgo o simplemente sería una bella cualidad de agregarnos a lo más húmedo de la tierra?