And that is to write poetry? "Shut the sound of death which enters the ear without an invitation? Do you mix your own voice with that noise to make it useless, appeased at least?
Juan Gelman
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Black Spots On My Lcd Tv
¡¡¡¡Last warning! Change Notice No 2 completed
We continue to read by. A kiss bloggers! 
Hola chic@s!!
Ahora sí que sí. Como podéis observar no quedan entradas en este blog. Han sido transladadas al nuevo blog con un lavado de "cara" (la gran mayoría).
Dejaré este aviso un par de días. Como muy tarde, el fin de semana este blog será eliminado en su totalidad.
Para seguir mis nuevas entradas, seguidme en el otro blog.
We continue to read by. A kiss bloggers!
Hide My Ip For Ubuntu
Parisian (Alexander Deineka)
Parisian (1935) is a painting by Russian Alexander Deineka (1899-1969)
( Seen Art Inconnu )
Deineka
Parisian (1935) is a painting by Russian Alexander Deineka (1899-1969)
( Seen Art Inconnu )
Monday, May 2, 2011
Fake Ids In London Ontario
Without laws (Claudio Rodríguez)
Mathilda
lawless
In this bed where sleep is crying
not rest, but day,
has arrived late at night. Does the body
is the question or the answer to that
so insecure? Small, dry cough,
pulse comes and goes
fresh and old meat
ceremony as there are no gestures or words
to re-interpret the scene as a novice
. I love you. It's bad when the cruel
courtesy. So this
you my body I have always just in your body tan
whereby a
lose myself once again on the morning
lose me.
as a war without heroes, a peace without alliances,
spent the night. And I love you. Seeking
offal, look for a medal
broken live a trophy this time we want to steal
. Tired
and I love you. It's time. "Our meat
the reward, the shrapnel that would justify such a struggle
pure no winners or losers? Hush,
that I love you. It's time. Sign
dawn and trembling. Never light was so early. Claudio Rodríguez
In his book Alliance and conviction (1965)
Eberhard Stock
lawless
the roosters crow now,
good love, and go, tasting
dawn.
Anonymous
In this bed where sleep is crying
not rest, but day,
has arrived late at night. Does the body
is the question or the answer to that
so insecure? Small, dry cough,
pulse comes and goes
fresh and old meat
ceremony as there are no gestures or words
to re-interpret the scene as a novice
. I love you. It's bad when the cruel
courtesy. So this
you my body I have always just in your body tan
whereby a
lose myself once again on the morning
lose me.
as a war without heroes, a peace without alliances,
spent the night. And I love you. Seeking
offal, look for a medal
broken live a trophy this time we want to steal
. Tired
and I love you. It's time. "Our meat
the reward, the shrapnel that would justify such a struggle
pure no winners or losers? Hush,
that I love you. It's time. Sign
dawn and trembling. Never light was so early. Claudio Rodríguez
In his book Alliance and conviction (1965)
How To Watch Movie From Usb On Sony Tv
'Habemus Papam', the last of Moretti
Last April 15 was released last film Nanni Moretti , Habemus Papam , which begins with the death of the pope and the conclave that must elect a new pope. But the newly elected (Michel Piccoli) is assaulted by doubts and anguish, depressed and fearful about not feeling up to his duty. The Vatican then calls a psychoanalyst (Nanni Moretti) to treat him and help him overcome his problems.
The song Everything changes sung by Mercedes Sosa is part of the soundtrack.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Eagle Sport Wheels Scooter
With the beatification of John Paul II
We join the initiative, from Mexico, publishes his friend Armando Moncada on your blog Pulque Fine "Virtue" , recently discovered and recommended reading.
Cyst On Butt Are They Herpes
Here's to you (Joan Baez)
In Our Hearts
The last and final moment is yours That agony is your
triumph
Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti
Sacco and Vanzetti Italian is a docudrama in 1971, directed by Giuliano Montaldo . The film presents a dramatization of the events surrounding the case of Sacco and Vanzetti.
For the soundtrack to this movie, Joan Baez wrote the lyrics to the song Here's to you , whose music was composed by Ennio Morricone:
HERE `S TO YOU
Here's to
you, Nicola and Bart Rest forever here For the soundtrack to this movie, Joan Baez wrote the lyrics to the song Here's to you , whose music was composed by Ennio Morricone:
HERE `S TO YOU
Here's to
In Our Hearts
The last and final moment is yours That agony is your
triumph
Perpetuity Caluculation
Andy McDowell by Denis Piel
Actress Andy McDowell seen in the eighties by French photographer Denis Piel .
How Big Should A Gas Furnace Flame Be
Mamma (Pavarotti & Gigli) Farewell to Ernesto Sabato
Le mani della mamma (Etching of Giorgio Bordin)
MAMMA
Mom, I'm so happy because
return to you.
My song tells you
which is the most beautiful dream for me, Mom I'm so happy ...
live so far away why?
Mom, just for you my song flies,
mother will be with me, you will not be alone anymore!
How I love you!
These words of love that my heart longs for you
maybe are not used more,
Met Your Mother,
my best but the song is you!
You're the life and life does not leave you again!
I hear your tired hand
searching for my curls now.
I feel, and your voice is,
lullaby bay.
Today your head white
I want to hold to my heart.
Mom, just for you my song flies,
mother will be with me, you will not be alone anymore!
How I love you!
These words of love that my heart longs for you maybe are not used
more
Met Your Mother,
my best but the song is you!
You're the life and life does not leave you again!
Mom ... never!
Best Ultra Light Wheelchair
Censorship
has muerto Ernesto Sábato (él no escriba the tilde de su apellido Italian) two months of turning 100 years. Apart from his brief but important literary work, can not fail to mention his role as head of the National Commission on Disappeared People (CONADEP). The commission was charged with investigating human rights violations that occurred in Argentina between 1976 and 1983 at the hands of the Process of National Reorganization. This investigation and subsequent report were reflected in the overwhelming book Never Again , known worldwide as Sabato Report, which sets out the evidence of the disappearances and deaths of people during the military dictatorship.
Sabato said goodbye to the initial fragment impressive "Report blind, third of his great novel On Heroes and Tombs (1961):
When did
Self-portrait of Ernesto Sabato
Sábato por Ermenegildo Sabat (2004)
has muerto Ernesto Sábato (él no escriba the tilde de su apellido Italian) two months of turning 100 years. Apart from his brief but important literary work, can not fail to mention his role as head of the National Commission on Disappeared People (CONADEP). The commission was charged with investigating human rights violations that occurred in Argentina between 1976 and 1983 at the hands of the Process of National Reorganization. This investigation and subsequent report were reflected in the overwhelming book Never Again , known worldwide as Sabato Report, which sets out the evidence of the disappearances and deaths of people during the military dictatorship.
Sabato said goodbye to the initial fragment impressive "Report blind, third of his great novel On Heroes and Tombs (1961):
Oh, gods of the night!
Oh, god of darkness, incest and crime,
of melancholia and suicide!
Oh, gods of rats and caverns
of bats, cockroaches!
Oh, violent , inscrutable gods
sleep and death!
When did
this will now end my murder? This ferocious clarity that I have now is like a beacon and I can take an intense beam to vast regions of my memory: I see faces, rats in a barn, streets of Buenos Aires and Algiers, prostitutes and sailors move the beam and see distant things : A source in the room, a sultry nap, birds and eyes with a nail spike. Perhaps there, but who knows, may be much further back, now I remember times in remotest periods of my early childhood. I do not know. Who cares, anyway?
I remember, however, the beginning of my systematic research (the other, the unconscious, perhaps the deeper, how I can know?). It was a summer day in 1947, passing by the Plaza de Mayo, San Martín on the street, in the village of the Municipality. I had been absorbed, when suddenly I heard a bell, a bell as someone who wanted to wake up from a dream millennium. I walked, hearing the bell, trying to penetrate the deeper layers of my consciousness: the heard but not listened. Until suddenly the sound subtle but pervasive and obsessive seemed to touch a sensitive area of \u200b\u200bmy self, some of those places where the skin of the self is fine and tenderness, and awoke with a start, as with a sudden danger and evil, in the dark as if my hands had touched the cold skin of a reptile. Before me, mysterious and hard, watching with all his face, saw the blind where she sells trinkets. Had ceased to play his bell, as if he had just moved for me to wake me from my foolish dream, to realize that my previous life had ended as a stupid preparatory stage, and now must face reality. Motionless, his face directed abstract to me, and I halted as a hellish appearance but frigid, we were there for those moments that are not part of the time but give access to eternity. And then when my conscience again to enter the stream of time, I ran away.
Thus began the final stage of my life.
realized from that day can not possibly spend a moment more and should start right now exploring this dark world.
took several months, until one day that fall was the second decisive encounter. I was in full investigation, but my work was delayed by an inexplicable apathy, I now think was probably a false form of fear of the unknown.
watched and studied the blind, however.
I was always worried and I had repeated discussions about their origin, status, mode of live and zoological status. Just beginning at that time to outline my hypothesis of the skin cold and had been insulted by letter and by word of mouth by members of the companies linked to the world of the blind. And with such efficiency, speed and information are always mysterious lodges and secret sects and cults that these lodges are invisibly spread among men and, without your knowing it or even come to suspect, watch us constantly, we pursue decide our fate, our failure and even our death. High degree thing about the cult of the blind, which, to the great misfortune of having their service unnoticed normal men and women: partly deceived by the organization, partly because of a corny propaganda and demagoguery, and finally, to a large extent by fear of punishment and metaphysical that whispers are those who dare to delve into its secrets. Punishments, incidentally, had at that time seemed to have already received complete and the conviction that continue to receive, in an increasingly frightening and subtle, something which, no doubt because of my pride, had no another result that accentuate my indignation and my purpose to take my research to the last stages.
I remember, however, the beginning of my systematic research (the other, the unconscious, perhaps the deeper, how I can know?). It was a summer day in 1947, passing by the Plaza de Mayo, San Martín on the street, in the village of the Municipality. I had been absorbed, when suddenly I heard a bell, a bell as someone who wanted to wake up from a dream millennium. I walked, hearing the bell, trying to penetrate the deeper layers of my consciousness: the heard but not listened. Until suddenly the sound subtle but pervasive and obsessive seemed to touch a sensitive area of \u200b\u200bmy self, some of those places where the skin of the self is fine and tenderness, and awoke with a start, as with a sudden danger and evil, in the dark as if my hands had touched the cold skin of a reptile. Before me, mysterious and hard, watching with all his face, saw the blind where she sells trinkets. Had ceased to play his bell, as if he had just moved for me to wake me from my foolish dream, to realize that my previous life had ended as a stupid preparatory stage, and now must face reality. Motionless, his face directed abstract to me, and I halted as a hellish appearance but frigid, we were there for those moments that are not part of the time but give access to eternity. And then when my conscience again to enter the stream of time, I ran away.
Thus began the final stage of my life.
realized from that day can not possibly spend a moment more and should start right now exploring this dark world.
took several months, until one day that fall was the second decisive encounter. I was in full investigation, but my work was delayed by an inexplicable apathy, I now think was probably a false form of fear of the unknown.
watched and studied the blind, however.
I was always worried and I had repeated discussions about their origin, status, mode of live and zoological status. Just beginning at that time to outline my hypothesis of the skin cold and had been insulted by letter and by word of mouth by members of the companies linked to the world of the blind. And with such efficiency, speed and information are always mysterious lodges and secret sects and cults that these lodges are invisibly spread among men and, without your knowing it or even come to suspect, watch us constantly, we pursue decide our fate, our failure and even our death. High degree thing about the cult of the blind, which, to the great misfortune of having their service unnoticed normal men and women: partly deceived by the organization, partly because of a corny propaganda and demagoguery, and finally, to a large extent by fear of punishment and metaphysical that whispers are those who dare to delve into its secrets. Punishments, incidentally, had at that time seemed to have already received complete and the conviction that continue to receive, in an increasingly frightening and subtle, something which, no doubt because of my pride, had no another result that accentuate my indignation and my purpose to take my research to the last stages.
Soledad Gallego Díaz, from Buenos Aires to The Country .
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