Si las flores pudieran cantar,
¿las podrías escuchar?
Y si la luna te sonriera,
¿la considerarías lisonjera?
Si escuchas bien y miras más al cielo,
Verás estas maravillas gloriosas
Que las flores cantan
Y la luna sonríe
Y tú, ciego entre todo
Cariño, la vida es corta
Los sueños que soñaste acabarán pronto
Pues, por una vez,
Mira el mundo antes de ir al Juez.
Si yo pudiera besarte, yo lo haría ahora
¡Ay! ¡Cómo quisiera sentir tus labios en los míos una vez más!
Poder acariciarte en mis brazos es mi paraíso
El único refugio que tengo en este infierno
Tenerte cerca de mi, eso es mi último deseo.
Querido mío, solamente tenemos esta vida
El reloj nos roba nuestra juventud
Y el tiempo nos asesina poco a poco
Pero aunque sea que el mundo terminara
No puedo pensar en alguien más que tú
Solamente tú, amor
She laid down upon the edge of the sand and water
Where dark land kisses sparkling ocean
Stretching out her curly hair into the sea with her salt-tipped fingers.
and coiling seashells and twinkling stars into her black mane
And as she rested, the silver moon hummed its strange, nocturnal melody
and favored his light upon the young girl
Glowing within her emerald eyes
And shining on her smooth legs entangled with green
She crunched the sand between her toes
Reminiscing about those good days by the shore
Those were the days when she had a home
Now, she’s simply lost and all alone.
While I was in Madrid, I visited El Prado Museum where I explored many Spanish paintings. One of the artworks that impressed me the most was el Greco’s “Christ Carrying the Cross”. The first time I saw it, I wanted to cry. I have never seen a piece of work that has moved me so. The painting of Jesus felt so alive, and what struck me the most was His eyes. I couldn’t help but think, What does Jesus see? What is he looking at? What is it that He sees that He seems to no longer be suffering? Ever since then, this question has filled my mind. I never thought that a work of art would touch me to this extent, and this poem is an expression of my impression of el Greco’s masterpiece.
What dost thou see that I cannot see?
The vision that distracts thee from thy Cross
Where is thy fear? What of thy sense of loss?
Those eyes that gaze so lovingly above
Tell me, dost thou see any future hope for me?
And if thou does, please tell me so
Please say something, for I must know!
See thy blood trickles upon thy face!
And yet you appear to sense no pain
How strange, unearthly, and so weirdly sublime
That you can even surpass death, and mend all time.
If I have never seen a love so pure,
I see it now, I see it in you
The one who saves and makes all things new.
It was when I loved thee most that I saw my end
That all this time I was truly dead.
Only when I left thee did I become alive
And to this day, without thee, I still thrive.
Fue un amor sincero
Uno que tuvo la fuerza de una roca
Hasta el día
Que tú conociste
Y ya no pudiste.
The girl spoke in whispers and through the tiny notes of her toy piano
Playing each key as though it were her last song
As though to never again be seen or heard
Swearing that she’ll never say another word.
She wore her scars like armor,
The ice metal that coiled her tender, pink skin
She let them do what they do
Hurting on the outside and all the way through
Time is not a balm
Or a great peace or calm,
Numbness is when the pain stops,
But then there are times when you feel your tears drop.
Your heart begins to hurt, and then you wish you could sleep
Hoping that when you wake up that this all was just a dream
But the nightmare lives on
And it doesn’t go away,
It is when you feel again that you recall that pain
Pain never really fades
Because pain has a name
Depression, Heartbreak, Loss
What more can you ask of God?
Neither do dreams
Ever seem to sleep
They creep and they crawl
They walk and they talk
Sometimes they growl or let out a howl
Whenever you see them
let them do their work,
and when you are ready
let them heal.
She had words tattooed on her fingers
The music written across her soul
They were the sweet daily reminders,
that love doesn’t have to grow old.
She couldn’t tell you the mysteries of the world
Why the stars in the sky would dance and twirl
But she could tell you life doesn’t have to be hard
It was always your choice from the start.
Lima, beautiful city lining the green shores of the Costa Verde,
Peru is wild jungles, snowy mountains and beach coasts,
Lands that stretch from the Machu Picchu to the Amazons
But from all of those, I prefer you the most.
Your classic Peruvian waltzes echo throughout the radio,
Delicious aromas of aji* and spices disperse out to your streets,
People rush out from their houses to catch impatient buses,
The marching of palace soldiers sing along to the drum’s beat.