" TRANSMUTATIONS , Tango "
( tango )
I'd like to forget ...
But the dream , endorsed me .
There are words that still , I inquire ,
a desire , and weariness .
They lose their luster over time,
memories, if not exempted ...
You think that everything endures ,
then learns that everything is ephemeral ...
Every so with forgetting I befriended ,
but I wake up , thinking she ...
I have recovered in favorable vigils ,
the emptiness of his amazing body .
The friends thing , I have served
but more has helped me , suffering .
This form of " transmute " which we all know ,
with the " Athanor " we carry within .
" Transmute " the heavy " lead " it is necessary ...
To then transform it into "gold " .
The experience is detrimental ,
whom the treads , indifference .
Nobody's going to hang a hope,
to recover , your coveted " fate " .
Being "wise" , is to anticipate the wells,
so you do not swallow it , an idiot .
Whenever I wake up before the dream of Alba ...
but I have been bits of your gestures .
Are those dreams " without premieres "
which are bent at writing , again .
Injustices will hinder between them,
when you fall , in the heat of a " swap."
You will never answers the " metaphors "
therefore the rigors of fate, little understood.
It pains the " pipe dream " , as a "bridge "
for the arrogant "Reason" , to flee by the "back door " .
That woman ... is not , either,
which now , it's just thoughts .
I never , I encourage those memories ,
more I come to this disorder.
When you return the " Nightingale" of their land ,
this side of the undoubted eternity.
I have to ask for her, with a rigor , reverential ,
And in those days ...
Where the " ellipses " ... never going to highlight ...
Given the sordid " jamases " ... of my nostalgia ...
"jamases" = never Daniel H Guasti
/ pisulinoal@yahoo.com.ar
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