A la Selva Azul de César León
- Lecturas 24
- Votos 1
- Partes 1
Etiquetasversoslibres
Esta vez hago publico un poema al cual le tengo un gran amor y respeto. Escrito aproximadamente en Mayo del año 2017 y el cual tuve oportunidad de recitar en la presentación del disco de mi querido amigo, el compositor, César León Mares, orgullosamente Texcocano. (Texcoco, es un hermoso municipio del estado de México que nos ha visto crecer a ambos y en cual tuve la fortuna de coincidir con el. )
El poema fue recitado con una pieza de acompañamiento titulada "Pentagrama de Cortes" escrita por el mismo César. Juntos la composición y el poema, son la introducción a la onceava pieza y mi favorita del disco High House- Casa Alta .
Para finalizar quiero decir a César León Mares... Gracias por creer en mi, gracias por ser quien me diera la primer oportunidad de pararme en un escenario dando a conocer a un publico lo que tanto me apasiona en la vida, mis letras. Gracias por hacerme parte de tu Selva Azul y por invitarme a entrar en tu "Casa Alta" Te quiero y te admiro como artista, como compositor, pero sobre todo como el gran ser humano con el que la vida me ha hecho coincidir. Larga Vida César!
Nota: Debo hacer mención de que la portada de este libro la tome prestada de la portada del disco de César, si alguien que me lea tiene curiosidad de adquirirlo ya está a la venta y pueden consultarlo con el mismo en su pagina oficial. https://www.facebook.com/CesarLeonGuitarrista/
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I gracefully raced down to the bulging rocks, stretching across the shore. Eva was waiting for me, her gorgeous brown hair waving in the harsh winds that made our noses numb, and our cheeks turned red as roses. We had been here together as sisters, stranded at this farm. We had been homeschooled, and never really met anybody else, so when our parents died five years ago, nobody had thought to check and see if we were ok. We were set on surviving, and running our small farm by the lake in Iceland. We owned a few cats, a coop of a dozen chickens, and a handful of pigs. They all stay caged up inside, because we're afraid some would walk out the barn and never return. Along with the livestock, we had a small brick shed with a blazing red roof. It used to be where Father worked on making tools and such, but Eva and I have turned it into a secondary little house. There's a loft we stuffed full of crispy, warm hay. When nights on the farm are late, we stay there. Besides, it feels more like home. The house gets cold at times, and nightmares come upon Eva and I. But curled up next to each other in the loft, although uncomfortable, makes the nightmares not strike as hard. This is a collection of short stories, poems, and other writing. It ranges from stories of abandoned girls in the past, to the horrible end of the world in the future, to haiku about a forest, and a poem about waves washing up on the surface. Join me in the 20+ part and 13000+ word collection, and you're in for a real treat, filled with happy poems, and tragedies that are sure to wrench your heart. I will hopefully continuously add to this as a sort of scrapbook for my writing.
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