sábado, octubre 26, 2013

Pero soy una esclava del dolor y lo adoro
como adora el avaro el sonido del oro:
oh, terrible tormenta de relámpago y rayo,
en tu fuego revivo, en tu fuego desmayo.


Alfonsina Storni

viernes, octubre 25, 2013

Agnes Obel - Riverside




Down by the river by the boats 
Where everybody goes to be alone 
Where you wont see any rising sun 
Down to the river we will run 

When by the water we drink to the dregs 
Look at the stones on the river bed 
I can tell from your eyes 
You've never been by the Riverside 

Down by the water the riverbed 
Somebody calls you somebody says 
swim with the current and float away 
Down by the river everyday 

Oh my God I see how everything is torn in the river deep 
And I don't know why I go the way 
Down by the Riverside 

When that old river runs pass your eyes 
To wash off the dirt on the Riverside 
Go to the water so very near 
The river will be your eyes and ears 

I walk to the borders on my own 
To fall in the water just like a stone 
Chilled to the marrow in them bones 
Why do I go here all alone 

Oh my God I see how everything is torn in the river deep 
And I don't know why I go the way 
Down by the Riverside

martes, octubre 15, 2013


I wear your dress

This is just to tell you that i wear your dress sometimes
the one you made with the gold brocade and the empire waistline
you fitted to your figure when it looked just like my own
that was jersey in the fifties, and the women stayed at home 

so you laid your paper pattern on the table in between
the silverware and napkins and the harper’s magazines
from a slow suburban season that is nothing but a dream
to your granddaughter 

this is just to tell you that i wear your dress sometimes
i wear it down to the bar in town and dance around all night
talking and joking, swearing and smoking like any stranger in a crowd
and nobody stares, nobody cares to tell me i’m not allowed- i am allowed 

and my body, by the letter of the law, is still my own
when i lay down in the darkness, unburdened and alone
with the liberty you’ve given like the clothing you’ve outgrown
to your granddaughter 

this is just to tell you that i wear your dress sometimes


Anaïs Mitchel