Dear Don Mario:
Maybe You, was used to have him receive calling him sir, but, that is you will be assured not mean they do not have to close, being part of me since we filed. And to see what things are, knowing that even a decade ago not because I, who live among books by authors known and less known, had not yet come up to you, but the day came when a friend lover a word, about five years ago I spoke with such passion for his work, which led me to discover in "Oblivion is full of memories" in its "Inventories in some of his novels, because I confess that not everything that I have written. I may have missed some of his key works, but it is undeniable that just read one of his novels, or poetry, to fall in love with his style, his way of narrating, its reach deep into the soul or smile sly ironies of so well described even in his verses. I filled
absences to his word, I shared presence with you, too.
You, I opened a new world in the way of telling what I feel in "trials" of poetry, taught me to write without a semicolon, with no capital letters or all capital letters, I learned of you to say what I feel without placing restrictions, without closing our eyes to what happens around me or to what my heart feels. You
Uruguayan, Venezuelan me, I knew of nothing, we encounter in any street or in a bookstore or theater where you were the guest for a festival or concert she gave. We never take a coffee together, however, we owe so much to know you, that since 17 May in 2009, my heart is contrite, because as with the great and humble men of history, and we believe eternal life both present and eternal and you, us and said goodbye. He went to the dimension where eternity awaits us, where from there certainly recreates the look in his footsteps in the deep scars left in the world of literature and its stance on the social and political, religious. Are respected and respect in their positions, men like you, they admire and still ask for a membership card.
So, from where you are, let me make this one of his poems perhaps best known poem that I have repeated many times, because it is a hymn of "solidarity in the feeling of love", applicable to much means "to have someone with you "
MAKE A DEAL
When you feel your wound bleed
Maybe You, was used to have him receive calling him sir, but, that is you will be assured not mean they do not have to close, being part of me since we filed. And to see what things are, knowing that even a decade ago not because I, who live among books by authors known and less known, had not yet come up to you, but the day came when a friend lover a word, about five years ago I spoke with such passion for his work, which led me to discover in "Oblivion is full of memories" in its "Inventories in some of his novels, because I confess that not everything that I have written. I may have missed some of his key works, but it is undeniable that just read one of his novels, or poetry, to fall in love with his style, his way of narrating, its reach deep into the soul or smile sly ironies of so well described even in his verses. I filled
absences to his word, I shared presence with you, too.
You, I opened a new world in the way of telling what I feel in "trials" of poetry, taught me to write without a semicolon, with no capital letters or all capital letters, I learned of you to say what I feel without placing restrictions, without closing our eyes to what happens around me or to what my heart feels. You
Uruguayan, Venezuelan me, I knew of nothing, we encounter in any street or in a bookstore or theater where you were the guest for a festival or concert she gave. We never take a coffee together, however, we owe so much to know you, that since 17 May in 2009, my heart is contrite, because as with the great and humble men of history, and we believe eternal life both present and eternal and you, us and said goodbye. He went to the dimension where eternity awaits us, where from there certainly recreates the look in his footsteps in the deep scars left in the world of literature and its stance on the social and political, religious. Are respected and respect in their positions, men like you, they admire and still ask for a membership card.
So, from where you are, let me make this one of his poems perhaps best known poem that I have repeated many times, because it is a hymn of "solidarity in the feeling of love", applicable to much means "to have someone with you "
MAKE A DEAL
When you feel your wound bleed
when you feel your voice sobbing
count on me (from a song by Carlos Puebla)
Companion
you know
but count me
if you
warns that look in your eyes
and a streak of love
recognizes mine
not alert their guns or think
what
delirium despite
vein or perhaps because there
you can count me
if sometimes
sullen
do not think laziness
can still tell me
but make a deal
I would have to
you
is so cute
know that you exist
one feels alive
and when I say this I mean
have
even up to two
even five
and not to go
hurried to my aid
you know
that
can count on me.
(Mario Benedetti)
But also, I would remind you, with you a poem that I discovered, in this dialectic that suffer from time to time asking the question unbelievers many of us do:
WHAT IF GOD NOT WOMEN?
But also, I would remind you, with you a poem that I discovered, in this dialectic that suffer from time to time asking the question unbelievers many of us do:
WHAT IF GOD NOT WOMEN?
what if God were a woman?
question
juan undeterred go go if God were a woman
may agnostics and atheists
we said no, not the head
and say yes to the bowels
maybe we approached
his divine nakedness to kiss his feet not brass
not stone her pubic
marble breasts not
plaster his lips
if God were a woman would hug
to boot of his background
and would not have to swear
until death do us part
as it would be immortal quintessential
and Instead of transmitting AIDS or panic
rub off his immortality we
if God were a woman would not be installed
far in the kingdom of heaven
but we await in the vestibule of hell
not closed his arms
her pink plastic and not his love of angels
my god oh my god
whether to always and forever
scandal would
splendid Ventura
impossible prodigious blasphemy
Mario Benedetti
Your
biography my dear master, I leave for biographers, just know that since 1920 in El Paseo de los Toros in Uruguay in 2009, in Montevideo the soul, you full of light to this part of the land and why not? the entire planet.
not my farewell, I'll stay with you when you open any of his books, or close your eyes and repeat one of his verses, giving thanks for the fire that leaves us.
Poet Farewell!
Yo.
Mario Benedetti
Your
biography my dear master, I leave for biographers, just know that since 1920 in El Paseo de los Toros in Uruguay in 2009, in Montevideo the soul, you full of light to this part of the land and why not? the entire planet.
not my farewell, I'll stay with you when you open any of his books, or close your eyes and repeat one of his verses, giving thanks for the fire that leaves us.
Poet Farewell!
Yo.
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