Hi
is said that everything "depends on the eye of the beholder."
absolutely applicable to the history, historians and certain facts.
In high school, a teacher revisionist DESTROYED.
As a teacher I laughed when I read that as a student ... "when the English arrived there were many vacant lots" ...
As someone who thinks, say
"Not so-so, not too-too.
We discovered we were.
not destroyed us, we.
And I prefer the idea that two parties joined and supplemented. Who gave and received ...
But for to continue with mine, if the unspeakable gift Paul explains his own, much better and more beautiful.
Words
... Everything you want, yes sir, but are the words that sing, which rise and fall.
I prostrate before them ... The master, the endorse, the chase, the bite, the melt ... I love all the words. The unexpected ... Those who are greedily waiting, they listen, then suddenly fall ... Fold
loved. Shine like colored stones, platinum jump like fish are foam, thread, metal, dew ... I chase a few words ...
are so beautiful that I put in my poem. The grabbed the fly when they are buzzing, and I catch, the clean, the hair, prepare myself against the plate, I feel clear, Eburne, vegetables, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agates, like olives ... And then, stir the shake, I did drink, the crushed, release, the dress up ...
I leave them in my poem like stalactites, like pieces of polished wood, charcoal, and Wrecks, gifts of the wave.
all in the word. A whole idea is changed because a word is moved from site or because another was placed in a phrase that I did not expect ... They
shadow, transparency, weight, feathers. They have everything that they were adding so much roll on the river, both of parental transmigrate, so hard to be real ... They are ancient and very recent. They live hidden in the coffin and the flower just begun ... What good language
mine, what good language inherited from the grim conquerors. They went to the tremendous strides by mountain ranges, and the Americas curled, looking for potatoes, snuff black, gold, corn with a voracious appetite.
swallowed it whole, with different religions, pyramids, tribes, idolatry ... But the conquerors they fell from the boots, beards, the helms, and stones, words that were here bright, bright ... language. Losers ... wins. They took the gold and left us the gold. They took much and gave us a lot ...
left us the words. Pablo Neruda
why I thank God, what legacy!
I assure you that I know other poets.
I agree and I revel in it.
The writing is like me "Glove."
He is the writer, I walk in the room and read.
I will not further ado, I'm sure it will be appreciated.
Chau,
Susan
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