The Writer.Chapter II.

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"I dream of trains that end up starving snakes, sleep with riddled with mass exodus of suffering and death, dream with blood, with torture, humiliation and crime, making sleep with all those terrible things in the world that comes"

The Writer. Vision Number One.

On that Sunday in June was my soul with such force that the words of the writer accompanied all my young heart beat every day and in my mind a thought had been installed in obsessive way, learn to read and write that is peculiar to the reader to interpret all the texts.

Peacefully passed my life, morning helping my mother in the household and cared for with the zeal of my brethren, in the afternoon I was studying and helped my father in the field when he was returning home tired of spinning factory work, and at night in the warmth of my bed dreaming Becquer with The Letters from Morocco of José Cadalso and all those articles and Chronicles written by Mariano José de Larra.

My world began to crumble that morning that my father with severe gesture surprised my mother and me while we were doing the wash, with great concern warned us of the danger of leaving home, the apocalyptic visions of the reader had become a reality, the II Spanish Republic was being attacked from within, and although the Government chaired by Santiago Casares Quiroga ensured that everything was under control and called for calm , peace and urged all citizens to calm, in the garden air they breathed the tragedy, anguish, fate and the misfortune of this dark and bloody time that had reserved the history of the 20th century.

Suddenly distrust seized all the neighbors and even within the family began to suspect each other, stillness gave way to street riots between supporters of the elected Government and those who cheered and extolled the coup, love became fratricidal hatred, fireworks were transformed into pumps, and irrigation anthem was replaced by an aberrant song extolling all the misery and all the horror of those fascists that would end up destroying the freedom and rights of all the peoples of Spain, the Spanish Republic II was the first victim of this homicidal madness that ended up sweeping and filling up with dead all over the streets and squares of old and suffered Europe.

* July 1936 *

Blood, hands
Instead of wine vinegar,
Cries that nobody, not listening
And your only place air.

Air, silence and disaffection,
Loneliness, mystery, and healing,
A verse of a song,
An act of desecration.

Bloodshot eyes
In wounds vinegar,
Dead in land from anyone,
And the horror painting air.

Lucas Lazar. Telling Stories.

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* Julio de 1936 *

Manos manchadas de sangre,
en vez de vino vinagre,
gritos que no escucha nadie,
y en tu lugar tan solo aire.

Aire, silencio y desilusión,
soledad, misterio y sanación,
una estrofa de una canción,
un acto de profanación.

Ojos inyectados en sangre,
en las heridas vinagre,
muertos en tierras de nadie,
y el horror pintando el aire.

Lucas Lazar. Contando Historias.

When it did that bloody summer of 1936 and despite the messages of peace of the Government the coup continued with efforts to prostrate to Spain to the Germanic monstrosity, Barcelona, Bilbao, Valencia and Madrid is chanted the "Not Pass!", but passed and razed all rights acquired during the Republican Governments and established a blood thirsty absolutist regime in Spain full of rage, full of misery and dedicated to terror.

It will continue to...

"I look at that shine from the inside so glowing that it burns, a flame arises while I look at your eyes of stone and that makes me believe that your true heart is still there and your stones"

The Horror that Toured Europe.

Note to Readers:

The Writer is a woman who writes and reading the writings of other authors, by translation problems writer can be confused with reader, a fact at first sight insignificant, but which is fundamental to the understanding of this history.

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