miércoles, 24 de junio de 2015

EL MURMULLO DE TUS VENAS





                                           "Pàjaros de la mañana
                           por los àrboles se quiebran.
                           La noche se està muriendo
                           en el filo de la piedra.
                           Vamos al rincòn oscuro,
                           donde yo siempre te quiera.
                           que no me importe la gente,
                           ni el veneno que nos echa."

                           F.G.Lorca ( Bodas de sangre)

1 comentario:

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