The Wise Man and the Beggar

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"My name is Nea and I'm looking for the truth, just as you have long been in the way, I'm tired and without answers to my questions, I feel tempted to give up and leave me to my fate to any road, but a powerful and invisible force pushes me, shows me a destination in circle that it leads me back to the beginning of the end, but of being flat, would go towards an abyss of eternal darkness."

The Wise Man and the Beggar. Words.

Whenever it arrives July get me lazy and then is when I take to post any old Edition, The Reader, The Wise Man and the Beggar, The Stories of Carmencita and Land of Monsters are some of the stories that some readers have been interested in private and have asked digital to be able to read directions, but unfortunately not inside the Web there is eternal and all those Web pages that were published for various reasons have had to disappear, the worst thing that can happen to a webmaster who works with enthusiasm for its content is having to suffer a massive attack of Trolls by throwing trash on all the threads of conversation.

Because of that, some people think that these novels are just lazarismos that live in the feverish mind of the author, nothing is further from the truth, provided that I quote a work leave clear if it is written or if it will be written, and so some reader check which I just usually lie when asked by age, there I leave the boot of one of my best novels yet to conclude It is written in 2008 and posted for the first time in FdD on February 16, 2009, with the pseudonym of The Malaya.

The Wise Man and The beggar. The Island.

When the world still exist theories imposed by awkward doctors of the Church who claimed that the Earth was flat, the center of the universe and that she was not moving, a woman had a dream in which a round, blue planet and that it turned on its own axis turning around of the Sun I was marking time. Women had heard of the tortures they were subjected to all those who supported the aberrant heresy and a morning without saying goodbye to his burst into the road and as a somnambulist began walking.

He crossed the Plains, climbed and fell mountains, and stepped along the sea, eating roots and wild fruits, he drank the water that flowed from a spring. Walked women avoiding human presence, on more than one occasion it was expelled as an outcast of any village, any small town, or any big city, but he also found good people who gave him food, asylum and protection for nothing and no questions asked.

But women restored once went his way and told his new friends goodbye without questions or explanations.

It was after one of these processes of rehabilitation in a remote village when walking through an endless and dusty road with Sage was found. She saw it as a dot on the horizon and his heart accelerated, the woman covered her face with a handkerchief when both approached, as the man with strangeness and gall looked at her, she step accelerated.

As they walked away had a temptation, but sensed that his eyes were even it observing, and return the head he withdrew, it was then when ran. When the beggar had considered that there was one space between the two looked toward back and what was his surprise when he found that the subject strange followed and he imitated it in the way they walk, arming of value and despite having not spoken a single word for years, asked:

Who you are and you want from me?

* Thus Spake my Soul *

Before you my life was quiet,
Entered, left and was not rare,
Climbing and descending without panicking,
But I felt I was missing something.

Before you life was went,
He laughed, cried, and nothing weave,
He loved and hated with blows of wanting,
And loneliness swam in my walking.

Before you all was a dream,
A mirage of illusion,
Before you it felt in the dark,
And I gave without submission.

After you, my life is peat,
He falls, gets up and tries to whistle,
Forget and meets the morning,
He left thinking of returning.

After you there is no shade,
Or puppets that I try to damage,
Night fears, nor crying at warning,
After you my soul! everything is writing.

Before you all was abject,
A grotesque of passion,
A bad film by gender,
A bad note from a bad song.

Lucas Lazar. Telling Stories.

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* Así Habló mi Alma *

Antes de ti mi vida era tranquila,
entraba, salía y no era rara,
subía y bajaba sin perder comba,
pero sentía que algo me faltaba.

Antes de ti la vida era absurda,
reía, lloraba y nada esperaba,
amaba y odiaba a golpes de karma,
y la soledad nadaba en mi alma.

Antes de ti todo era un sueño,
un espejismo de ilusión,
antes de ti palpaba en lo oscuro,
y me entregaba sin sumisión.

Después de ti mi vida se turba,
cae, se levanta e intenta volar,
se olvida y se encuentra con la mañana,
se marcha pensando en regresar.

Después de ti ya no hay sombra,
ni marionetas que me intentan dañar,
ni miedos nocturnos, ni llantos al alba,
después de ti ¡alma mía! todo es amar.

Antes de ti todo era abyecto,
un esperpento de pasión,
una mala película de género,
una mala nota en una mala canción.

Lucas Lazar. Contando Historias.

It Will Continue To...

I had never read this chapter since its publication, has cost me a great effort to find it among the thousands of Works, but really is worth the effort, much more it took to find it that in writing it, and came to several conclusions, first I've never written so badly as some "Murcia intellectuals" and second, that to write a good story makes technical foul , but much more needed is the inspiration, by the time I wrote the chapters of the first part of the story, if anything it was overrun was precisely that, of creative inspiration, I do not say I in an egotistical outburst, no, the narrative shows it.

"My name is Terra, vague this world looking for an unknown, a logical explanation to an enigma of antiquity, I headed for the vantage points of the Earth, where it seems that you are coming, I come from the Confines of the world, where it seems to be that you go. I've been many years wandering only and not comforted, and the unknown have yet to decipher, Adras, my King, has forbidden me to return without it and I think I'm never going to find, is for this reason that I have taken your meeting as a sign of destiny, I see in you the solution to all my problems, your way I returned to where I come My dear House by the sea, that is why I follow, I cling to ti as a castaway clings to a Board so that does not engulf it the sea, glimpsing in your flashes the salvation of my soul."

The Wise Man and the Beggar. Words.

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