jajaja
Bien visto, si señor. Y una duda, qué suena mejor: ¿Seamus Bolson? ¿Bilbo Heaney
cada día peor, señorita!
jeje
Se parecen, sí...no pase calor la arañita
bieeeennn! que la fiebre del parecido razonable no se extingaaa
Madre mía, pues sí que se parecen...
a mí me gusta más la poesía de bilbo
Otro que se apunta a la poesía de Bilbo... (muy agudo, crack)
I sit beside the fire and thinkof all that I have seen,of meadow-flowers and butterfliesIn summers that have been;Of yellow leaves and gossamerin autumns that there were,with morning mist and silver sunand wind upon my hair.I sit beside the fire and thinkof how the world will bewhen winter comes without a springthat I shall ever see.For still there are so many thingsthat I have never seen:in every wood in every springthere is a different green.I sit beside the fire and thinkof people long ago,and people who will see a worldthat I shall never know.But all the while I sit and thinkof times there were before,I listen for returning feetand voices at the door.Bilbo Baggins
Ay, qué razón llevas.Y a los dos les gustan los zumos de la tierra (al menos, a Heany le pirra la sidra, por lo que sé de su visita a San Juan de "las ArenaS").un besín
Publicar un comentario
11 comentarios:
jajaja
Bien visto, si señor. Y una duda, qué suena mejor: ¿Seamus Bolson? ¿Bilbo Heaney
cada día peor, señorita!
jeje
Se parecen, sí...
no pase calor la arañita
bieeeennn! que la fiebre del parecido razonable no se extingaaa
Madre mía, pues sí que se parecen...
a mí me gusta más la poesía de bilbo
Otro que se apunta a la poesía de Bilbo... (muy agudo, crack)
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been;
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.
But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.
Bilbo Baggins
Ay, qué razón llevas.
Y a los dos les gustan los zumos de la tierra (al menos, a Heany le pirra la sidra, por lo que sé de su visita a San Juan de "las ArenaS").
un besín
Publicar un comentario