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Luz1966


Miembro Free, Santiago

~ ~ ~ ~

COMO ÁRBOLES

Quién hubiera dicho
que estos poemas de otros
iban a ser
míos

después de todo hay hombres que no fui
y sin embargo quise ser
si no por una vida al menos por un rato
o por un parpadeo

en cambio hay hombres que fui
y ya no soy ni puedo ser
y esto no siempre es un avance
a veces es una tristeza

hay deseos profundos y nonatos
que prolongué como coordenadas
hay fantasías que me prometi
y desgraciadamente no he cumplido
y otras que me cumplí sin prometérmelas

hay rostros de verdad
que alumbraron mis fábulas
rostros que no vi más pero siguieron
vigilándome desde
la letra en que los puse

hay fantasmas de carne otros de hueso
también hay los de lumbre y corazón
o sea cuerpos en pena almas en júbilo
que vi o toqué o simplemente puse
a secar
a vivir
a gozar
a morirse
pero además está lo qe advertí de lejos

yo también escuché una paloma
que era de otros diluvios
yo tambén destrocé un paraíso
que era de otras infancias
yo también gemí un sueño
que era de otros amores

asi pues
desde este misterioso confín de la existencia
los otros me ampararon como árboles
con nidos o sin nidos
poco importa
no me dieron envidia sino frutos

esos otros están
aqui

sus poemas
son mentiras de a puño
son verdades piadosas

están aqui
rodeándome
juzgandome
con las pobres palabras que les di

hombres que miran tierra y cielo
a través de la niebla
o sin sus anteojos
también a mí me miran
con la pobre mirada que les di

son otros que están fuera de mi reino
claro
pero además
estoy en ellos

a veces tienen lo que nunca tuve
a veces aman lo que quise amar
a veces odian lo que estoy odiando

de pronto me parecen lejanos
tan remotos
que me dan vértigo y melancolía
y los veo minados por un duelo sin llanto
y otras veces en cambio
los presiento tan cerca
que miro por sus ojos
y toco por sus manos
y cuando odian me alegro de su rencor
y cuando aman me arrimo a su alegría

quién hubiera dicho
que estos poemas míos
iban a ser
de otros.

Mario Benedetti


Like trees...

Who would have said
that these other poems
it´s could be mine

after all there are men that I was not
and yet I wanted to be
if not for a life at least for a while
or a blinking

however there are men who went
I am neither, and can be
and this is not always an improvement
sometimes it is a sad

There are deep desires and the unborn
long as it coordinates
There are fantasies that I promised
and unfortunately I have not met
I turned and without promese me

There are faces of truth
that lit my fables
faces that I saw no more but still
guarded from
the point where I

There are other ghosts meat bone
there are also those of fire and heart
bodies or souls in pain in jubilation
I saw or touched or simply put
dried
to live
to enjoy
to die
qe but also warned it is far

I also heard a dove
that was another deluge
I shred and also a paradise
which was other childhoods
I also dream Gemi
that was another love

So
from this mysterious corner of the existence
I like to cover the other trees
with or without nests nests
immaterial
I was not jealous but fruit

these others are
here

his poems
are lies of a fist
are true pious

Here are
around me
judging
poor with words that I gave

men who look at earth and sky
through the fog
or without your glasses
I also look
with poor sight which I

are others who are outside my realm
clear
but also
I'm in them

sometimes have what I never had
sometimes love what I love
sometimes I hate what odiando

suddenly seem distant
so remote
they give me vertigo and melancholy
mined by and see a grief without tears
however, sometimes
feel it so close to the
I look for your eyes
and play their hands
I'm glad they hate their resentment
they love me leaning his joy

Who would have said
these poems of mine
it´s could be
other.

Mario Benedetti


(Traducción Ilidio Fernandes)

Comentarios 10

  • kodomo 29/06/2009 21:28

    very nice
  • Iveth Claros 15/06/2009 0:52

    Qué paisaje tan lindo! Te animas a decirme dónde es? ;)
    Los colores de esta toma me encantan!
    Saluditos
    Iveth
  • DRAGA PUC 13/06/2009 21:48

    +++
  • Luc Bellen alias SKYWALKER 12/06/2009 0:51

    Hello,
    Beautiful landscape with warm colors, beautiful light and beautiful composition .....
    Kind regards from Belgium,
    Luc
  • adriano j faria 07/06/2009 17:05

    Uma atmosfera muito bonita e natural.
    belo cenário!!

    beij............Adriano.
  • chris nsmith 02/06/2009 17:31

    Beautiful shot.
    bw
    Chris
  • Ilidio Fernandes 01/06/2009 16:22

    Who would have said
    that these other poems
    iban be
    míos

    after all there are men that I was not
    and yet I wanted to be
    if not for a life at least for a while
    or a blinking

    however there are men who went
    I am neither, and can be
    and this is not always an improvement
    sometimes it is a sad

    There are deep desires and the unborn
    long as it coordinates
    There are fantasies that I promised
    and unfortunately I have not met
    I turned and without prometérmelas

    There are faces of truth
    that lit my fables
    faces that I saw no more but still
    guarded from
    the point where I

    There are other ghosts meat bone
    there are also those of fire and heart
    bodies or souls in pain in jubilation
    I saw or touched or simply put
    dried
    to live
    to enjoy
    to die
    qe but also warned it is far

    I also heard a dove
    that was another deluge
    I shred and also a paradise
    which was other childhoods
    I also dream Gemi
    that was another love

    So
    from this mysterious corner of the existence
    I like to cover the other trees
    with or without nests nests
    immaterial
    I was not jealous but fruit

    these others are
    here

    his poems
    are lies of a fist
    are true pious

    Here are
    rodeándome
    judging
    poor with words that I gave

    men who look at earth and sky
    through the fog
    or without your glasses
    I also look
    with poor sight which I

    are others who are outside my realm
    clear
    but also
    I'm in them

    sometimes have what I never had
    sometimes love what I love
    sometimes I hate what odiando

    suddenly seem distant
    so remote
    they give me vertigo and melancholy
    mined by and see a grief without tears
    however, sometimes
    feel it so close to the
    I look for your eyes
    and play their hands
    I'm glad they hate their resentment
    they love me leaning his joy

    Who would have said
    these poems of mine
    iban be
    other.

    Mario Benedetti


    Love it and this is the best i can do. beijinhos
  • Kaith Kakavouli 01/06/2009 15:21

    beautiful !!!!
    can you put an english translation of the poem for us to understand it !!!!
  • Vera Böhm 01/06/2009 12:58

    This is a fantastic exposure of this landscape
    with very beautiful warm brown tones. Well done!
    Regards, Vera
  • Michael Krüger MK 01/06/2009 9:22

    Gefällt mir ausgezeichnet. Diese Aufnahme lebt von der Lichtstimmung und die ist einfach stark.
    Gruß Michael
    Im Museum
    Im Museum
    Michael Krüger MK