Silencio: Pendientes...

viernes, septiembre 22, 2006

Pendientes...

¡Saludos! No crean que hemos bajado nuestras armas de carbón. Que Silencio no haya tenido actividad estos últimos meses no es alarmante, sino motivo de júbilo. Porque quiere decir que como buen@s estudiantes hemos estado ocupad@s haciendo nuestros deberes y nutriéndonos para venir con más fuerza. Ya se esta acaando la espera. Así que estén pendientes porque muy pronto se romperá el silencio y comenzará la gritería...

3 Comments:

Ana María Fuster said...: Griten fuerte, ensordezcan la apatía, luchen con creatividad...
les deseo éxitos; 3:34 AM
Círculo Literario Estudiantil said...: Iguelamente Ana María, gracias!; 12:08 PM
Anónimo said...: Bonjour, clesilencio.blogspot.com!
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The Stolen Child, de William Butler Yeats

WHERE dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen chetries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's morefull of weeping than you
can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's morefully of weeping than you
can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,.
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To to waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For to world's morefully of weeping than you
can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal-chest.
For be comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
from a world more full of weeping than you.

Silencio

viernes, septiembre 22, 2006

Pendientes...

3 Comments:

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