Trails, Streets and Roads
-*-
"A man walks on a dusty road, his feet are barefoot and his gaze is gray, he walks without fear yearning for his lost joy, walks and walks relentlessly looking for the truth "
The Wise Man and the Woman Beggars.
In all roads there are meters of light and miles of darkness, there are long straights of placidity and distressing crossroads of restlessness. On all roads there are green meadows full of bliss, but also in all roads there are shady shoulders covered with tears and sadness, sunny paths painted with sun and dark paths sprinkled with suffering and death.
Footsteps that walk along abysses, which go up and down mountains to the sea, roads with bridges that save rivers and become streets of a city, the road becomes destiny, It makes the path to walk, the look on the horizon, the memories are left behind, walking is made the way, the way is done when walking.
Roads of sugar, blood and salt, roads of badlands lands, of milk and of lime, paths of glory, paths of thorns and streets painted with darkness, the gaze on the horizon, light and darkness, echo of footsteps along the way, the path is done when walking.
Mon chemin
attire
sentiers
par le ciel,
et aussi ...
Mon chemin
placé
étapes
en enfer.
My Destiny
Hang up
Of threads
Of Ice,
And also ...
My Destiny
Is forged
In Reflections
Of fire.
Camino,
destino y
profanación.
Olvido,
descuido y
maldición.
Suspiro,
destino y
salvación.
Camino,
sentido y
perdición.
Mon chemin
reste
sur les épaules
d'un homme mort,
et aussi ...
Mon destin
est tendu
á travers les échappatoires
de temps.
My Destiny
Hang up
Of threads
Of Ice,
And also ...
My Destiny
Is forged
In Reflections
Of fire.
Trails, Streets and Roads.
You start enjoying the scenery and no hurry to arrive, eventually the road gets tired, The trip makes us anxious and as you walk towards an uncertain destination you yearn for some of those landscapes that were left behind.
The poet sings to that light that in the darkest moments it illuminates the way and that facilitates the walking. The yearning of the past can take the form of a tick that sticks to the psyche to feed on yesterday, but it can also act as a light beacon that serves as a guide and illuminates the way forward.
On a virtual path I met Karen Dalyea, a good woman and an exceptional poetess, sincere, scathing, courageous, and it is to her that I want to dedicate this composition, among the simple stanzas I tell him that there is way, that I still remember her, of her banjo, of her painting, of her history and of her hard to sing,
There is only one Gift and one Abomination, between the two thousand Fanaticisms of Madness, of Obscurantism, of Crime and of Destruction of Millions of Lives lost in a Labyrinth plotted of Death and plagued with Horrors.
"En la blanca alameda Alá me da, en el silencio Dios nos dice adiós, God is gold, barbuda es la faz de Buda, reflexiva se muestra la efigie de Shiva y en la superstición se perpetúa la abominación cainita"
Anonymous.
"A woman walks on a desert road, is not afraid of the cold or loneliness, has no friends and no affection to yearn, walk and walk with longing, walk and walk looking for his truth"
The Wise Man and the Woman Beggars.
-**-