sábado, 19 de diciembre de 2009

The Hour Glass

by: Ben Jonson (1572-1637)

      Do but consider this small dust, here running in the glass,
      By atoms moved.
      Could you believe that this the body was
      Of one that loved?
      And in his mistress' flame playing like a fly,
      Turned to cinders by her eye?
      Yes, and in death as life unblest,
      To have't expressed,
      Even ashes of lovers find no rest.

viernes, 4 de diciembre de 2009


There is no love but the restless stirring

Of weak emotions surrendering to seduction,

Lonesome roads lead to cliffs and mazes.


You know it is just walking on by life,

You feel it is only a meanwhile affair,

A cut and paste collage pretending a heartbeat.


You accept it is not worth the pain,

Yet the game challenges most sensible words

And a mosaic of appealing tunes

Can turn the voice into a crying river.


Soledad Lorena

4 de diciembre de 2009

De cobardes provocaciones

Prefiero la quietud del desierto

La llanura vasta del silencio,

A la estrella fugaz que detiene

En un instante la chatura

Y provoca el simún de los tiempos.


Un espejismo en la voz

Un mandala en tus ojos

Una aldaba en tus manos.


Y sin embargo

Juegas a los dados con mi nombre

Emprendes retirada sin batalla;

Detrás de ti una polvareda sin besos,

Un cristal que no sabe de ilusiones.

Soledad Lorena

4 de diciembre de 2009