Thursday, April 10, 2008
Si no duerme el amor
Josefa Parra-Elogio del dormido
Si no duerme el amor,
¿cómo observar su hermosa transparencia,
la reverberación que desde el sueño
surge, como un reguero luminoso?
¿Cómo encontrar la senda hasta el misterio
si no duerme el amor?
La vida se interfiere en la belleza,
pone alfileres de tangible hueso,
sellos de realidad inevitables.
La vida impone siempre su mandato.
Pero si duerme, pero si se escapa
el amor de la cárcel de este mundo,
su libre cauce asaltará la tierra,
llegará hasta mi pecho su secreto.
Si no duerme, ¿cómo recuperarlo?
Si no duerme el amor,
¿cómo observar su hermosa transparencia,
la reverberación que desde el sueño
surge, como un reguero luminoso?
¿Cómo encontrar la senda hasta el misterio
si no duerme el amor?
La vida se interfiere en la belleza,
pone alfileres de tangible hueso,
sellos de realidad inevitables.
La vida impone siempre su mandato.
Pero si duerme, pero si se escapa
el amor de la cárcel de este mundo,
su libre cauce asaltará la tierra,
llegará hasta mi pecho su secreto.
Si no duerme, ¿cómo recuperarlo?
Saturday, April 05, 2008
I am the son
"We the people, in order to form a more perfect union."
Two hundred and twenty one years ago, in a hall that still stands across the street, a group of men gathered and, with these simple words, launched America's improbable experiment in democracy. Farmers and scholars; statesmen and patriots who had traveled across an ocean to escape tyranny and persecution finally made real their declaration of independence at a Philadelphia convention that lasted through the spring of 1787...
I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas. I was raised with the help of a white grandfather who survived a Depression to serve in Patton's Army during World War II and a white grandmother who worked on a bomber assembly line at Fort Leavenworth while he was overseas. I've gone to some of the best schools in America and lived in one of the world's poorest nations. I am married to a black American who carries within her the blood of slaves and slaveowners - an inheritance we pass on to our two precious daughters. I have brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, uncles and cousins, of every race and every hue, scattered across three continents, and for as long as I live, I will never forget that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible.
Ler mais aqui.
Two hundred and twenty one years ago, in a hall that still stands across the street, a group of men gathered and, with these simple words, launched America's improbable experiment in democracy. Farmers and scholars; statesmen and patriots who had traveled across an ocean to escape tyranny and persecution finally made real their declaration of independence at a Philadelphia convention that lasted through the spring of 1787...
I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas. I was raised with the help of a white grandfather who survived a Depression to serve in Patton's Army during World War II and a white grandmother who worked on a bomber assembly line at Fort Leavenworth while he was overseas. I've gone to some of the best schools in America and lived in one of the world's poorest nations. I am married to a black American who carries within her the blood of slaves and slaveowners - an inheritance we pass on to our two precious daughters. I have brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, uncles and cousins, of every race and every hue, scattered across three continents, and for as long as I live, I will never forget that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible.
Ler mais aqui.