a Dylan Thomas
necesito la luz del sol para enceguecer
para que todo luzca distorsionado
tiro la piedra
no escondo la mano...
algo se aleja en la carretera y no sé que es
cuando no sé que es
es entonces que tengo paz
los árboles lo saben
la luz sobre la piedra lo sabe
18 whiskies seguidos lo saben:
necesito la luz del sol para enceguecer
para sentir que todo luce distorsionado
grandes oleadas de calma arriban
en un viento paciente
no sé que se dice
no sé que se oye
si, maldición, lo sé...
son las fastidiosas campanas
tienen siglos anunciando el juicio final
abajo es, que está el mundo
aquí es,
(en esta azotea)
que no existo...
los árboles lo saben
la luz sobre la tierra lo sabe
18 whiskies seguidos
(como Dylan)
lo saben
es entonces siquiera (quizá) que tengo paz
excepto por el inoportuno suceso
de que no quiero paz...
so typically u.
ResponderEliminarmaybe is so un-typically me Erzebeth, beautiful & scary name by the way...
ResponderEliminarWell Sr; I thought that the whole aspect of you and the blindness, was completely implicit of your bloom problem. A recessive disorder characterized by photosensitivity. So Typically and un-typically you. Of course it's scary... And mutual fear brings Peace,
ResponderEliminarTill the selfish loves increase;
Then Cruelty knits a snare,
And spreads his baits with care.
photosensitivity... so typically me...
ResponderEliminarSade & Dylan ... so un-typically me...
mutual fear uh? are you the real Erzebeth? jumping in time just to read me? to suck young blood? till the selfish loves increase then....
Am I real? certainly Sr. I feel insulted by your boldness. In Csejthe, life was boring. Now in hell, is even worst. Nobody to be killed. Everybody's dead. Now I spend the eternity meeting whores, murderers and some condemned writers as well. Writers are interesting people. Proust and I, we used to talk about our lives. He describes his pastlife as "pugnacious meaning of time" he said. Is a funny bastard.
ResponderEliminarYoung blood? I've realize men's blood taste better. Let me know if you visit hell someday.
it wasn't my intention, so sorry...not always i find a dead beautiful girl in my blog... (laughs) tell me more about the your life in csejthe...there are so many lies (i think) about you... also, there are so many things to tell (i guess). my last visit to hell... uh... so far... its something private and maybe this is sooooo public... what do you think? you'll taste my blood if i go?
ResponderEliminarThere are so many lies about my past. By first; Its a real insult, that the history bequeath my act as a fool game of empty vanity... "was that of the countess bathing in her victims' blood in order to retain beauty or youth". Such a big insult. I killed, because I want to. I've always been beautiful, no need to preserve my own beauty.
ResponderEliminarFor a long long time I couldn't sleep.
When I was child, I saw a girl burning on a bonfire, because she was stealing bread of the castle. She lived in a village nearly Ecsed, and she were confined to the authorities and been punished. Since then, I felt the strength as a river of power. Magnificent and delightful power. Life run through veins. Life that I've choosen to take it at my pleasure. After all those childhood years obsessed with dead, I finally decided to make it true in Csejthe. My friend, warms baths are good to conceal the sleep. Blood baths were the only one way to conceal the sleep to me. To be honest the real number to murders arrives at 666. Number of my lord... They are so many lies about my life, my friend, thou must know.
la sangre de cuantas vírgenes se necesita para un tibio baño conciliador del sueño?
ResponderEliminarIt depends on how thirsty are thou.
ResponderEliminar