Un Poema De Mi Tierra/ A Poem From My Land [ES/EN]

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Un saludos a todos aquí en Gems. Eh Aquí un pequeño poema con el que muchos podrían sentirse identificados.

IMG_20210922_105315.jpg

Aprovecharé el silencio! Exclamó mi alma!

Ya sentado en mi banqueta me invade una profunda paz. Que cielo tan hermoso, que cantidad de luces!. Es inevitable, pienso en mi tierra.

Nunca pensé extrañarla tanto!

Extrañará ella mis pasos? mi ir y venir? Mi juventud recorrió sus calles, se sentó en sus bancas, respiro su aire.

Quizá mis pasos quedaron grabados en ella, como ella en mi corazón.

Y es que aprovechando la oscuridad de la noche decidí salir afuera a contemplar el cielo estrellado.

Me invade la nostalgia, Mi tierra!, Extraño sus olores, su gente, su bullicio.

Pienso un poco en el ayer y ahora me embarga la nostalgia. No!! Mejor me regocijo. Pensaré en mis planes, en mis mejoras, en mis logros. Ah!, Pero nunca olvidaré mi tierra; hermosa, árida pero llena de mucho AMOR. Un día regresaré y verá de mí cuánto e crecido, cuanto aprendí, cuanto madure al añorarla.

Adiós! Cuando pasaba por aquella calle de viejos clientes. Qué será de aquel perro café que tantas veces me saludó con sus ladridos?

Aprovecharé, sí. Aprovecharé el tiempo para meditar, examinarme; daré de mi lo mejor.

Cuando un día regrese, los niños ya serán hombres y los viejos quizá duerman bajo aquel mango del aposento, quizá!

Recorreré las calles como algo nuevo para mi, tal vez alguna nueva tienda, rostros nuevos; pero me esforzaré por llevarle a mi tierra algo nuevo que aportar, algo que compartir.

Seré yo quien cuente con entusiasmo mis anécdotas, así como lo hacía aquel vecino animador. Allá viene aquel! Solíamos exclamar al verlo. Ahora hasta eso añoro.

Aprovecharé, mañana será otro día; quedará en mi memoria también está noche.
Luego pintare de nuevo esa pared, plantare en mi patio girasoles, acomodare aquel pasillo y contaré con alegría lo que recuerdo de mi tierra.

Extrañará ella mis pasos? mi ir y venir? Mi juventud recorrió sus calles, se sentó en sus bancas, respiro su aire.

Quizá mis pasos quedaron grabados en ella, como ella en mi corazón.

¿Quien por aquí no ama a su tierra?


English



Greetings to everyone here at Gems. Hey Here's a little poem that many might identify with.

IMG_20210922_105315.jpg

I will seize the silence! My soul exclaimed!

Already sitting on my stool a deep peace invades me. What a beautiful sky, what a lot of lights! It is inevitable, I think of my homeland.

I never thought I would miss her so much!

Will she miss my steps? my coming and going? My youth walked its streets, sat on its benches, breathed its air.

Perhaps my steps were engraved in her, as she was in my heart.

Taking advantage of the darkness of the night, I decided to go outside to contemplate the starry sky.

I am invaded by nostalgia, my land, I miss its smells, its people, its hustle and bustle.

I think a little of yesterday and now I am overcome with nostalgia. No!! I'd better rejoice. I will think of my plans, my improvements, my achievements. Ah, but I will never forget my land; beautiful, arid but full of much LOVE. One day I will return and you will see how much I have grown, how much I have learned, how much I have matured in longing for it.

Farewell! When I was passing by that street of old customers. What will become of that brown dog that so often greeted me with its barking?

I will take advantage of it, yes. I will take advantage of the time to meditate, to examine myself; I will give my best.

When one day I return, the children will already be men and the old men will sleep under that handle of the room, perhaps!

I will walk the streets as something new to me, maybe some new store, new faces; but I will strive to bring to my land something new to bring, something to share.

I will be the one to tell my anecdotes with enthusiasm, just like that lively neighbor did. Here he comes, we used to exclaim when we saw him. Now even that is what I long for.

I'll make the most of it, tomorrow will be another day; this night will remain in my memory too.
Then I'll repaint that wall, I'll plant sunflowers in my yard, I'll arrange that corridor and I'll tell with joy what I remember of my homeland.

Will she miss my steps? my coming and going? My youth walked its streets, sat on its benches, breathed its air.

Perhaps my steps were engraved in her, as she was in my heart.

Who around here doesn't love his land?



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