How To Repair Broken Gear Tooth

risingtrees @ 2008-04-04T23:51:00



La Barcarola de «Los Cuentos de Hoffmann»:

sólo esta melodía quedó en la memoria del viajero cuando echó a andar sin más finalidad que sacudirse

el tedio de estar vivo.

Luego de recorrido paso a paso
el gran bosque de ciervos que va de Alaska a Punta del Este,

con su bastón de fibra

y con el gran knitted hat Indians blind finger pure rays illuminated by moonlight on the river trip

decided to concentrate on castles and beautiful statues,

and started well, the last leg of their journey, that was, and is yet, because the traveler has completed or walk, or know tiredness or
dream of going back and walk incessantly

from Lisbon to Warsaw and from Warsaw to Lisbon, whistling

Barcarolle from "The Tales of Hoffmann. "
If someone asks, he still walk, said:
"Whistling in the dark to overcome fear is what we have.
Do not think that has left me, never distracted by the appearance of light
: since childhood I learned that there is light, which is
only one of the costumes of darkness, because there is only darkness
to man. ; Whistling in the dark
to see if any part comes to my rescue dog: the dog
left the Virgin as guardian of his son
when she went to her occupation as a singer in the choir of the synagogue
to praise Abraham, David, Solomon, and all their hieratic
relatives taheñas
beards and ivory rattles, and bleating of lambs slaughtered
when the moon is offered as a bow to send arrows
the heart of the Creator: all useless, useless. "

And the traveler was muttering to himself,
'Full of fear but entrench the castle
of whistles, I check every day is only night
unbreakable closed around us;
perceive the disdain of Creation us, the world's orphans
in plain sinister universe
absolute solitude this speck of dust so important we believe,
but that's just the dirty dirt corpuscle
to stir in the room when the young gentleman looks
the mirror, wears his tie and shaking
nonchalantly with fingertips
this little dirt do not know how you got there,
or what it does in the middle of his impeccable suit. "

"I'm from Lisbon to Warsaw again

I pity the awful loneliness of
land in the Cosmos,
caress his face to ease, perhaps, his eternal shame,
and return from Warsaw to Lisbon, whistling
Barcarola very gently,
the Barcarolle from "The Tales of Hoffmann" by Offenbach's Eye,
a melody, so stupid and useless
as the birth of a child, or as
descending from a corpse to the castle finally lit. "




Gastón Baquero