emmajane16.1775
The bird i
My name is Pablo bird,
one-feathered bird,
light shadow flyer
and of confused clarity,
the wings are not seen,
my ears are ringing
when I walk through the trees
or under the graves
like a dire umbrella
or like a naked sword,
stretched like a bow
or round like a grape,
I fly and fly without knowing,
wounded in the dark night,
who will wait for me
who do not want my song,
who want me to die,
who do not know that I arrived
and they will not come to defeat me,
to bleed me, to writhe
or to kiss my torn suit
by the whistle of the wind.
That's why I come back and go
I fly and I don't fly but I sing:
i am the angry bird
of the calm storm.
by Pablo Neruda
Bella's Lullaby www.flickr.com/groups/14818647@N22/, Chihuahua (75, 57, 23) - Moderado
The bird i
My name is Pablo bird,
one-feathered bird,
light shadow flyer
and of confused clarity,
the wings are not seen,
my ears are ringing
when I walk through the trees
or under the graves
like a dire umbrella
or like a naked sword,
stretched like a bow
or round like a grape,
I fly and fly without knowing,
wounded in the dark night,
who will wait for me
who do not want my song,
who want me to die,
who do not know that I arrived
and they will not come to defeat me,
to bleed me, to writhe
or to kiss my torn suit
by the whistle of the wind.
That's why I come back and go
I fly and I don't fly but I sing:
i am the angry bird
of the calm storm.
by Pablo Neruda
Bella's Lullaby www.flickr.com/groups/14818647@N22/, Chihuahua (75, 57, 23) - Moderado