Patos laqueados en China Town.
miércoles, 31 de octubre de 2007
miércoles, 10 de octubre de 2007
sábado, 6 de octubre de 2007
Oficina y denuncia
Yo denuncio a toda la gente
que ignora la otra mitad,
la mitad irredimible
que levanta sus montes de cemento
donde laten los corazones
de los animalitos que se olvidan
y donde caeremos todos
en la última fiesta de los taladros.
Os escupo en la cara.
(Fragmento de Oficina y denuncia, de Poeta en Nueva York.)
martes, 2 de octubre de 2007
Verde que te quiero verde
En un lugar de Lisboa, de cuyo nombre no logro acordarme,
no ha mucho tiempo que vivía una vieja que tendía sus calzas
en el balcón.
lunes, 1 de octubre de 2007
domingo, 30 de septiembre de 2007
sábado, 29 de septiembre de 2007
Chelsea Hotel
Azotea del Chelsea Hotel.
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
you were talking so brave and so sweet,
giving me head on the unmade bed
while the limousines wait in the street.
Those were the reasons and that was New York,
we were running for the money and the flesh.
And that was called love for the workers in song
probably still is for those of them left.
Ah, but you got away, didn't you babe?
you just turned your back on the crowd.
You got away, I never once heard you say:
I need you, I don't need you, I need you,
I don't need you and all of that jiving around.
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
you were famous, your heart was a legend.
You told me again you prefered handsome men
but for me you would make an exception.
And clenching your fist for the ones like us
who are oppressed by the figures of beauty,
you fixed yourself, you said, "Well never mind,
we are ugly but we have the music."
And then you got away, didn't you babe...
I don't mean to suggest that I loved you the best,
I can't keep track of each fallen robin.
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
that's all, I don't even think of you that often.
Leonard Cohen
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)