Ode to the guitar
Let it be the guitar you speak for us. Thin
purebred --------- heart
sound, clarity
you cut the flight:
singing survive:
all you will miss your way.
I do not know if the crying hoarse that you
collapses,
your drumming, your
-------------------------- - swarm of wings, you
be mine, or if you
quietly rapturous
more strongly, dove
system or hip,
foam mold of resurrecting
and appears swollen, reclining
resurrected and rose.
Under a fig tree near the hoarse
swift Bío Bío,
guitar,
left your nest as a bird and hands
brown quotes you gave
buried sobs
dark
endless chain of goodbyes.
From you came the chant,
marriage consummated
man with his guitar,
the forgotten kisses, the unforgettable
ungrateful
and thus became
------------- -------- all night
star guitar box, shaking the sky
with a glass sound
and the river its endless strings tuned
sea dragging a tide of pure
aromas and laments. Oh loneliness tasty
with coming night, like bread alone
land
loneliness with a river guitars!
The world is collected in a single drop of honey
, a star,
everything is blue in the leaves, shaking the entire height
----------------- ----------- sings.
And the woman who plays
land and guitar leads in his voice
grief and joy of the deep
hour.
The time and distance
fall on guitar:
are a dream, a song
broken: heart
country goes down the road on horseback
dreams and dreams of the night and silence, sings and sings
land and his guitar.
Poema de Pablo Neruda
Music: Vicente friend. Voices: Montse Cortes and Vicente Amigo.
0 comments:
Post a Comment