"TRANSMUTATIONS, Tango"

                                     

                                                 " 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

"TRANSMUTACIONES , Tango"

                               

                                                “TRANSMUTACIONES , Tango”

                                                                                          (tango)

Quisiera olvidarla…

Pero el sueño , me la refrenda.

Existen palabras que aún , me indagan,

por una afán , y un hastío.

Pierden su lustre con el tiempo,

los  recuerdos , si no son eximidos…

Uno cree , que todo perdura ,

luego aprende que todo es efímero…

Cada tanto con el olvido yo me amisto ,

pero me despierto , pensando en Ella…

Yo he recobrado en propicias vigilias ,

el vacío de su alucinante , cuerpo .

 Los amigos algo , me han servido

 pero mas me ha servido , el sufrimiento.

 Esa forma de “Trasmutar” , la que todo sabemos,

 con el “Atanor” que llevamos , dentro.

“Transmutar” el pesado “plomo” , es necesario…

Para luego , transformarlo , en “oro”.

La experiencia , va en desmedro ,

 a quienes los pisa , la indiferencia .

Nadie te va  , a colgar una esperanza ,

para que recuperes , tu ansiado “hado”.

Ser “sabio” , es anticipar los pozos,

para que no te lo tragues , por idiota.

Siempre , me despierto antes del sueño del Alba…

pero me han quedado pedacitos de tus gestos.

Son esos sueños “sin estrenos”,

los que se empecinan , en reeditarte.

Las injusticias se entorpecen entre ellas ,

cuando te caes , en el fragor de un “canje” .

Jamás te darán respuestas la “metáforas” ,

pues, de los rigores del destino , poco se comprende.

Se esmera la “entelequia” , como “puente”,

para que la arrogante “Razón” , pueda huír por la “puerta trasera”.

Esa mujer … no ha sido , cualquiera ,

la que ahora , es solo ,  pensamientos.

Yo nunca , aliento esos recuerdos,

mas me vienen , para padecerla.

Cuando regrese el ”Ruiseñor” de sus tierras,

 aquende , de la indudable eternidad.

Yo le he de preguntar por Ella , con un rigor , reverencial ,

Y por aquellos días …

En donde las “elipsis” nunca …se van a destacar…

Ante los sórdidos “jamases” …de mi nostalgia…

                                   

                            Daniel H Guasti

                           /pisulinoal@yahoo.com.ar

"CLIMBING , Tango"

                                               

                                                       " CLIMBING, Tango"
                                                                               ( tango )
To the " first lieutenant " Ibañez , William Vieiro , José Luis Fonrouge ...
To Cuiñas Hector , brothers Skvarca ...to the whole C.A.B.A...

Soon , I'll be at the top ...
And I 'll explode with mystical delirium .
I only miss three "long" ,
 a ' journey ' to the right,
 and through that " dihedral " smooth .
But now I'm in a " Fireplace "
 scaling , " opposing " ...
And I'm thinking of you, my love ,
while deploy my two " brackets " .
 Opt for the "ladder" of old nails ...
and "Artificial " I "command" ...

I had to fight with a hard " Verglass "
before you get to this point.
They bit " screaming " the " crampons " ..
as " violin " making " sandpaper " .
And then again , a section on "free" ...
choosing appropriate ... "nut" .
 Steps in " Dulfer " and my cheek ,
to challenge, to Nature .
 But more than ... I challenge brother
" Palestreando " one " slab " , and ( V + ) ...
Nothing , so ... my great fervor ,
while , the danger becomes more " objective " ..
With a " cascade" of pieces of ice ,
" Combing " ... my fine " helmet " .
 Va demanding good "safe"
when the wall has little " grips " .

Here there are no meritorious "general"
when in the " roped " scales "first" .
I'm seeing something clear,
height and " hypoxia " is hitting me .
What is an "eight " ...
I can see it as a "zero" .
 Avoid " high bivouac "
what was previously agreed.
To me, I do not like sleeping , hanging like a " sack "
 and doing ... the " pendulum " ...
Take to , accommodate my " hardware " ..
" Hooks " , "hammer" , " nails " , "nut", " friends" , "slings " , etc ...
 And in this " toboganizado " , " height Neve "
I'm taking you, my love ...
pinned to my harness ,
with a " snap " , " thread " ...

I'm spotting , at the top , the "Mute " with its "viola" ...
The "fat" Troilo with his " bellows "
in a melody " lilting "
 and the " Polish " singing by his side ...
"Chanel " and Pugliese " , the piano ...
Piazzolla with his " leaks " ...
There is not nothing more ... up ...
Summit! ...Summit ! ...Fuck! ...
We go , We go ... still ! ...C. A. B. A... glorious ! ...
                                 
                         Daniel H Guasti / pisulinoal@yahoo.com.ar

" CABA " = Andino Center of  Buenos Aires
"viola" = a guitarr
"palstreando" = to climb , with some difficulty
"toboganizado" = with , sloping