martes, 2 de octubre de 2012


Why can not see the bottom of the landscape,
there where project  bundle of lamp that guide,
that change of colours and perspective?

Can be the distance and its offense
in straight line that toward the horizon
was not of this so defined path
and comport corners
that we can not imagine in life?

In fact, the first edge of the environment,
the first hills that rise
are already naked without flowers.

And is that by here already happen
the souls pilgrims younger,
that innocently and whit  ardour trace
signals in a way ubnarked;
and they proud under the dense pretended  profile
going up by the path of the hopeful love.

They make people like Persephone
and their nymphs in Enna,
undress the landscape with nerve.
So was this Goddess Core
 fell in love to a narcissus unselfish.
 But...Where are they in this moment?;

devoured to them also the earth
 to give these souls in detail
 to the one who enjoys
 of the licentious behaviour,
and like these souls going to be corrupted
inside and out?,
to what owe  this silence?,

Oh, treacherous solitude !
Where is the solidarity and the true love?,
in this painful feeling
of an empty useless and in expect,
in where the drought of the time
does suffer to the wild and freezes my ardour.

_xurxo ferenandez gonzalez_