Poemas (0.042s) Poesía, prosa, comentarios, críticas - Literatura y Cultura Espanola
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agonia.net 
· El triángulo de oro
Artículo 
Despre Boierism: manifest si razie
Mesa redonda
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-05-31 | [Este texto, tienes que leerlo en english] | Inscrito en la biblioteca por Valeria Pintea Brother, today I sit on the brick bench outside the house, where you make a bottomless emptiness. I remember we used to play at this hour of the day, and mama would calm us: "There now, boys..." Now I go hide as before, from all these evening prayers, and I hope that you will not find me. In the parlor, the entrance hall, the corridors. Later, you hide, and I do not find you. I remember we made each other cry, brother, in that game. Miguel, you hid yourself one nigbt in August, nearly at daybreak, but instead of laughing when you hid, you were sad. And your other heart of those dead afternoons is tired of looking and not finding you. And now shadows fall on the soul. Listen, brother, don't be too late coming out. All right? Mama might worry.
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