"...el veneno, en cualquier caso, era un recurso de mujerzuelas, algo desprestigiado y que no se usaba desde la época de la Colonia, porque incluso los crímenes pasionales se resolvían cara a cara."
Isabel Allende / La casa de los espíritus
miércoles, 15 de abril de 2009
Lovers on a Park Bench
The day with its cares and perplexities is ended and the night is now upon us. The night should be a time of peace and tranquility, a time to relax and be calm. We have need of a soothing story to banish the disturbing thoughts of the day, to set at rest our troubled minds, and put at ease our ruffled spirits. And what sort of story shall we hear? Ah, it will be a familiar story, a story that is so very, very old, and yet it is so new. It is the old, old story of love. Two lovers sat on a park bench, with their bodies touching each other, holding hands in the moonlight. There was silence between them. So profound was their love for each other, they needed no words to express it. And so they sat in silence, on a park bench, with their bodies touching, holding hands in the moonlight. Finally she spoke. “Do you love me, John?” she asked. “You know I love you, darling,” he replied. “I love you more than tongue can tell. You are the light of my life, my sun, moon and stars. You are my everything. Without you I have no reason for being.” Again there was silence as the two lovers sat on a park bench, their bodies touching, holding hands in the moonlight. Once more she spoke. “How much do you love me, John?” she asked. He answered: “How much do I love you? Count the stars in the sky. Measure the waters of the oceans with a teaspoon. Number the grains of sand on the sea shore. Impossible, you say.” “Yes and it is just as impossible for me to say how much I love you.” “My love for you is higher than the heavens, deeper than Hades, and broader than the earth. It has no limits, no bounds. Everything must have an ending except my love for you.”
Samuel M. Johnson
viernes, 9 de enero de 2009
jueves, 8 de enero de 2009
lunes, 5 de enero de 2009
Once líneas para Epifanía
Él renunció a sus derechos; yo no.
Así se prepara al lector para recibir un mensaje racional.
La C de Centum, la D de Dimidius y la M de Mille.
Las letras se asientan sobre una línea imaginaria.
Un poema no es lo que el poeta se propuso, ni lo que lector concibe.
Los griegos eran niños normales.
El espíritu ha tomado una extensión grande y uniforme.
Del mismo modo resulta innecesario imprimir un paréntesis.
No hay duda que el primer motivo del crecimiento del Imperio Británico fue el económico.
( _________ ).
Obra del elemento calculador que existe en nuestra alma.
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