Welcome

Todos somos muy ignorantes. Lo que ocurre es que no todos ignoramos las mismas cosas.


So this is my blog, here is were I can write, express and make fun of anything I want to.

Here you'll know a little more about me, and the way I see things, how I deal with some ideas and why I am who I am.

jueves, 15 de enero de 2009

WHEN WE TWO PARTED


      HEN we two parted
      In silence and tears,
      Half broken-hearted
      To sever for years,
      Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
      Colder thy kiss;
      Truly that hour foretold
      Sorrow to this.

      The dew of the morning
      Sunk chill on my brow--
      It felt like the warning
      Of what I feel now.
      Thy vows are all broken,
      And light is thy fame:
      I hear thy name spoken,
      And share in its shame.

      They name thee before me,
      A knell to mine ear;
      A shudder comes o'er me--
      Why wert thou so dear?
      They know not I knew thee,
      Who knew thee too well:
      Lond, long shall I rue thee,
      Too deeply to tell.

      I secret we met--
      I silence I grieve,
      That thy heart could forget,
      Thy spirit deceive.
      If I should meet thee
      After long years,
      How should I greet thee?
      With silence and tears.
      George Gordon (Lord) Byron

She walks in beauty

      HE walks in beauty, like the night
      Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
      And all that's best of dark and bright
      Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
      Thus mellow'd to that tender light
      Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

      One shade the more, one ray the less,
      Had half impair'd the nameless grace
      Which waves in every raven tress,
      Or softly lightens o'er her face;
      Where thoughts serenely sweet express
      How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

      And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
      So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
      The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
      But tell of days in goodness spent,
      A mind at peace with all below,
      A heart whose love is innocent!
      George Gordon (Lord) Byron (1788-1824)



Salvador Dali

Echo of Death

Echo of Death
La muerte llama, uno a uno, a todos los hombres y a las mujeres todas, sin olvidarse de uno solo -¡Dios, qué fatal memoria!-, y los que por ahora vamos librando, saltando de bache en bache como mariposas o gacelas, jamás llegamos a creer que fuera con nosotros, algún día, su cruel designio. Camilo José Cela

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Comments and Suggestions