Sola, desenfrenada en tierra de sombra y de silencio. Soy agotada y turbia espiga de abandono. Soy desolada y lloro Todo lo ha dado, todo Es gesto casi exacto a la entrega de Dios. Alba tanto distante, que hasta mi propia sombra con su sombra se ahuyenta. Soy diluvio de duelos, toda un atormentado desenfreno de lluvia, un lento agonizar entre espadas perpetuas. Si mi amor rompe suelos, disuelve la distancia como la claridad, ataja mariposas al igual que luceros, y cabalga horizontes como cruza un rosal Es tonada de espumas en los labios del mar Ya para el salto estoy dispuesta.
Casi no puedo con el mundo que azota entero mi conciencia No quiero que hasta el amor se me desprenda Todo sonar se ha muerto en mis pupilas, a mis ojos no inquietan las estrellas, los caminos son libres de mi rumbo, y hasta el nombre del mar, sorda me deja. Hoy, cenizas me tumban para el nido distante. Casi voy por la vida como gruta de escombros. Ya ni el mismo silencio se detiene en mi nombre.
Como muertos sin sitio se sublevan mis voces. Como si me tuvieras nadando entre tus brazos, donde las aguas corren dementes y perdidas. Todo fue mi universo unas olas volando, y mi alma una vela conduciendo tu vida Write a customer review. What other items do customers buy after viewing this item? There's a problem loading this menu right now.
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En la mano del hombre se defiende la hueca escultura de normas sobre el tiempo moldeada. You, honey of courtesan hypocrisies; not me; in all my poems I undress my heart. Bad Stepmother TV Movie I go on being a message from the world. Views Read Edit View history.
All the color of awakened aurora may the sea and you expand it into a dream that it carry my ship of seagulls and leave me in the water of two skies. Life straightened up to watch me pass. I began getting lost atom by atom of my flesh. Pilgrim in myself, I walked a long instant. I lingered on the route of that errant path.
With myself on horseback I galloped through the shadow of time. I knew myself as a message far from the world. I felt myself a life inverted from the surface of colors and forms,.
A clock has sounded the hour chosen by all. The surroundings reconquer color and form. Always the same flesh silently tightening on the familiar. I am still in the landscape far from my vision. I go on being a message from the world. The form that recedes and that was mine an instant. I Was My Own Route. I wanted to be like men wanted me to be: But I was made of nows,. At each advancing step on my route forward. But the branch was unpinned forever,.
Already my course now set in the present,. I felt myself a blossom of all the soils of the earth,. And I was all in me as was life in me.. But I was made of nows;. Nothing troubles my being, but I am sad. Something slow and dark strikes me, though just behind this agony, I have held the stars in my hand.
It must be the caress of the useless, the unending sadness of being a poet, of singing and singing, without breaking the greatest tragedy of existence. To be and not want to be Forgive me, oh love, if I do not name you! Apart from your song I am dry wing. Death and I sleep together. Only when I sing to you, I awake.
English translations from Song of the Simple Truth: I don't want the sea to know that pains go through my breast. I don't want the sea to touch the shore of my earth.
I have run out of dreams, crazy from shadows in the sand. I don't want the sea to look at blue mourning in my path. My eyelids were auroras when the storm crossed! I don't want the sea to cry a new rainstorm at my door. All the eyes of the wind already cry me as dead. I'm going to make a seawall with my small happiness, light happiness of knowing myself, mind the hand that closes. I don't want the sea to arrive at the thirst of my poem, blind in the middle of light, broken in the middle of an absence.
Elongate yourself in my spirit and let my soul lose itself in your rivulets, finding the fountain that robbed you as a child and in a crazed impulse returned you to the path. Coil yourself upon my lips and let me drink you, to feel you mine for a brief moment, to hide you from the world and hide you in yourself, to hear astonished voices in the mouth of the wind.
My wellspring, my river since the maternal petal lifted me to the world; my pale desires came down in you from the craggy hills to find new furrows; and my childhood was all a poem in the river, and a river in the poem of my first dreams.
Life surprised me pinned to the widest part of your eternal voyage; and I was yours a thousand times, and in a beautiful romance you awoke my soul and kissed my body. Were did you take the waters that bathed my body in a sun blossom recently opened? Who knows on what remote Mediterranean shore some faun shall be possessing me! Who knows in what rainfall of what far land I shall be spilling to open new furrows; or perhaps, tired of biting hearts I shall be freezing in icicles!
Blue mirror, fallen piece of blue sky; naked white flesh that turns black each time the night enters your bed; red stripe of blood, when the rain falls in torrents and the hills vomit their mud. Man river, but man with the purity of river, because you give your blue soul when you give your blue kiss. The only man who has kissed my soul upon kissing my body.
A Julia de Burgos Ya las gentes murmuran que yo soy tu enemiga porque dicen que en verso doy al mundo tu yo. It is my voice because you are the dressing and the essence is me; and the most profound abyss is spread between us. You are the cold doll of social lies, and me, the virile starburst of the human truth.