Hi
I Argentina, I am proud of it, but often it hurts both a place to love.
On her birthday a few days is 200, so many and so few.
We are a special country, we have everything and have nothing. Unfortunately, most abundant in our history circular, are the bad governments, the I, never the U.S., the putting personal privilege to the national ...
could go on for a long period, but not the spirit that my country deserves a youth about to celebrate its 200 years.
wish that when in 100 years will celebrate the tercentenary, no one remembered the phrase type of General Manuel Belgrano:
- Ay ... my fatherland!
The poems are Prilutzky Farny Julia, Ukrainian poet, who adopted this country as their homeland and said so.
I Argentina, I am proud of it, but often it hurts both a place to love.
On her birthday a few days is 200, so many and so few.
We are a special country, we have everything and have nothing. Unfortunately, most abundant in our history circular, are the bad governments, the I, never the U.S., the putting personal privilege to the national ...
could go on for a long period, but not the spirit that my country deserves a youth about to celebrate its 200 years.
wish that when in 100 years will celebrate the tercentenary, no one remembered the phrase type of General Manuel Belgrano:
- Ay ... my fatherland!
The poems are Prilutzky Farny Julia, Ukrainian poet, who adopted this country as their homeland and said so.
HOMELAND
was born anywhere. It is the mystery,
-final is the first mystery-
but he loves the land as their own
and wants to return to her womb.
Where from impossible,
where to stay is necessary,
where the mud is stronger than the desire
to keep walking,
where hands fall sharply
and kneeling is rest,
where you look to heaven with pride
desperate and rough,
where you are never completely alone,
where any threshold is the abode.
Where you want to plow. And give a child.
And he wants to die, is the motherland.
LAND
For May, I broke out in a life
my calendar starts in January time,
because in May cry
preacher tore the country in two, like a wound;
because in May, the blood transcended
opened in the wake of the star;
because everything was given in the path
between his morning and his party.
all started in his day. If the expected
has turned its autumn spring
I owe what I have and what I am:
ground, beat, song, and tenderness.
Hesitating between the outbreak and grove,
May by May I come and go.
LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO THE HEART,
FOR ME ARGENTINA
.
Health
Susan
FOR ME ARGENTINA
.
Health
Susan
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