Tuesday, March 31, 2009

So Long, March.

On one hand, it's not February. On the other hand, it seems that all I do this month is wait for April.

Then, into my eyes floods that infinite light, and that's when I need a walking stick, a dog, a hand, faith. And as you pass by me, touching the chill with your soft silence, blindly I sentence you to give names to all that I now do not know. Spanish Lyrics here. Version Original here.

(Happy April. Happy Poetry Month.)

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