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Black Messengers
There are in life such hard blows . . .
I don't know!
Blows seemingly from God's wrath;
as if before them
the undertow of all our sufferingsis embedded in our souls . . .
I don't know!
There are few; but are . . . opening dark furrows
in the fiercest of faces and the strongest of loins,
They are perhaps the colts of barbaric Attilas
or the dark heralds Death sends us.
They are the deep falls of the Christ of the soul,
of some adorable one that Destiny Blasphemes.
Those bloody blows are the crepitation
of some bread getting burned on us by the oven's door
And the man . . . poor . . . poor!
He turns his eyes around, like
when patting calls us upon our shoulder;
he turns his crazed maddened eyes,
and all of life's experiences become stagnant,
like a puddle of guilt, in a daze.
There are such hard blows in life.
I don't know
César Vallejo
(1892-1938)
Peruvian Poet
4 comments:
Kete grupin nga Peru-ja e pame edhe ne ne mbremje ne Taksim para ca javesh kur ishim ne Stamboll.
mire ja kaluat ?
south american folk music is incredible....and peruvians are really nice too.
glad to find your blog
lorna
glad to find your blog too Lorna...where are you now?
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