Marcial Rosas Florian Guzman

Metáfora

Este pueblo hermoso
Donde se levantan hasta el cielo ,los extensos
Cerros en cadenas;,exánimes algunos cerros verdes,
Otros cerros piedras finas ,casi azules,apuntan y sobre

Ellos descansan ;las puras, las blancas,las blancas
nubes del cielo descansan y duermen el sumiso ,
dócil,y obediente sueño;las nubes,las blancas
las puras las del cielo;alli donde el viento al chocar tambien

Con los casi azules cerros ,descansa suspira
y sufre tomando un solo poco de su vida, de su forma
sin impulso;no sabe si suspirando ,suapirando ,suapirando,
habeses la lluvia lo encuentra sin saber si parte de
su vida es;se desprende ..se desprende..

 

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Published on e-Stories.org on 09/07/2005.

 

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