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Month: August, 2017

Charles Baudelaire

               The Sadness of the Moon

Rambles in the middle of the night the lazy moon;

As a beauty, between thrones and daydreams,

Who strokes with and hand,

Before I fall asleep, the contour of the breasts.


On the back of the tender tender

Dying, she delivers to long throws,

And the eyes will be landing on the niveas spots

That in the blue we bloom likes strange flowers

If sometimes in this globe, drunk of leisure and pleasure,

Let her a stealth tear drain

A charitable poet, sleepless nights.

In the concave of the hands makes that drop care,

From Irisados reflexes like a grain of Opal,

And far away from the sun, it takes her in the chest.


P.S. I remembered this poem, and others, like ‘Spleen”, during the event of the eclipse. The sun, the moon. in a dance, and the moon sparring drops, or tears, as occurs every month.

Elvis Presley

I listen, Elvis Presley with great emotion for a long time.  The rock began with his performances, synthesizing many musical roots (country, pop, some jazz). Like Amy Winehouse, he left the life so soon, forty years later, at August, 16. One of the songs I like so much is “My Way”.

…And now the end is near

So I face the final curtain

My friend, I’ll say it clear

I’ll state my case of which I’m certain


The record shows I took the blows

And did it my way

The record shows I took the blows

And did it my way

Cecilia Meireles

                                                Cantico VII

Do not love as men love

Do not love with love.

Love without love

Love unintentionally.

Love without feeling, like you are

someone else.

As if you were to love

without waiting.

Why not wait.

So separated from what he loves,

Do not worry about this.

If love leads to happiness,

If it leads to death,

If it leads to any destination.

If it takes you away.

and goes himself


                                                   I do remember so much the songs of Amy Winehouse reading that poem. Strange. Strong. Amy composed twenty songs during her short life.  I missed her so much. Perhaps “Love is a Losing Game” and “Just Friends” make her so close to Bob Dylan, whom lyrics and melody are almost the same things. Amy was a soul musician, as Cecilia Meireles soul poet. Far beyond classifications, I listen to them with the soul.

“Love is a Losing Game”…..


Over futile odds”

And laughed by the gods

And the final frame

Love is a losing game”









Alceu Wamosy

Alceu Wamosy was a writer and journalist of the XIX sec. and had a short life. Published three books of poem writing about the Pampa and the gaucho.  His poems are categorized as Symbolists. Although his short work is an admirable writer.

                                               TWO SOULS

Oh you who come from afar, Oh You who

come tired

Come in, here in this ceiling, You will find


I’ve never been loved, and I live so alone

You live alone, you were never loved.

The Frost bleach lively the screen

And my bedroom has the warmth of a nestling.

Enter until at least the curves of the way

Bathe in the rising splendor dawn

And tomorrow when the sunlight glows radiantly

The endless, deserted road,

Horrendous and bare

You can start again, Oh nomad wandering

I will not be alone anymore, nor will you go alone.

There’s gotta be a longing of your’s…

You will take with you a longing my