• Dear friends, this time I have my thoughts on a Chilean writer, one of my great admiration, the poet Gonzalo Rojas.
• A few days ago has been hit by the disease, stroke now keeps in his bed surrounded by family and loved ones that will energize positive and caring.
• Has 93 years and one of the large, painted the walls of his home after many gray, green and blue as the eyes of his wife, Hilda May, had one eye of each color.
• The mystical poetry and lustful at par, as he describes himself, is that mixture that shakes the cobwebs from the libraries. One of the most widely read poets in the world.
• When asked about God, said:
• And God Rojas. Do you believe in God?
• "I believe in my God and I speak slowly.
• No loud talking with him.
• In my work an average game mystic. When people read my poems of love, he says, how it will be mystical, this man, almost libertine!
• Well, mystical lustful, if you want.
• Also, I think the spell of love and even sex is sacred.
• No one can go around saying that this is a desecration, desecration of what! To me the blame does not work and I have no fault that I do not work. Is sin? Less. "
• From here, go all our energies and most sincere hugs to Gonzalo Rojas.
• Salvation
I fell for you when you cried your boyfriend, crushed by the death, and were like the star that lit the world terror.
Oh how I regret having lost that night under the trees, while the sea sounded through the fog and you were electrical and weeping under the storm, oh how I regret having made your face, your voice and your fingers, of not having excited, for not having taken and possessed, oh how I regret not having kissed.
More than your blue eyes, your skin more cinnamon, more enriched your voice to call the dead, more than the ominous glow of your soul is incarnate in my being, like animal that eats my back with his teeth. I would
Easy been biting among the flowers as the farmers, give a kiss on the neck, ears, and get my spot in the depths of your wound.
But I was fine, and what became an obsession would have been just a torn dress, legs tired from running and running to the instant frenzy, and the sweat of a young woman and a young, free from death. Oh
endless hole, where it exits and enters the endless sea Oh I wish terrible smell your smell makes lewd and mournful girl behind the dresses of all women.
Why was not fierce, do not you saved from the muddy and perverse they exhale the dead? Why do not you like a man that impregnates dark and stormy night? • Gonzalo Rojas
• All paintings are the artist Serhiy Reznichenko .
• A few days ago has been hit by the disease, stroke now keeps in his bed surrounded by family and loved ones that will energize positive and caring.
• Has 93 years and one of the large, painted the walls of his home after many gray, green and blue as the eyes of his wife, Hilda May, had one eye of each color.
• The mystical poetry and lustful at par, as he describes himself, is that mixture that shakes the cobwebs from the libraries. One of the most widely read poets in the world.
• When asked about God, said:
• And God Rojas. Do you believe in God?
• "I believe in my God and I speak slowly.
• No loud talking with him.
• In my work an average game mystic. When people read my poems of love, he says, how it will be mystical, this man, almost libertine!
• Well, mystical lustful, if you want.
• Also, I think the spell of love and even sex is sacred.
• No one can go around saying that this is a desecration, desecration of what! To me the blame does not work and I have no fault that I do not work. Is sin? Less. "
• From here, go all our energies and most sincere hugs to Gonzalo Rojas.
• Salvation
I fell for you when you cried your boyfriend, crushed by the death, and were like the star that lit the world terror.
Oh how I regret having lost that night under the trees, while the sea sounded through the fog and you were electrical and weeping under the storm, oh how I regret having made your face, your voice and your fingers, of not having excited, for not having taken and possessed, oh how I regret not having kissed.
More than your blue eyes, your skin more cinnamon, more enriched your voice to call the dead, more than the ominous glow of your soul is incarnate in my being, like animal that eats my back with his teeth. I would
Easy been biting among the flowers as the farmers, give a kiss on the neck, ears, and get my spot in the depths of your wound.
But I was fine, and what became an obsession would have been just a torn dress, legs tired from running and running to the instant frenzy, and the sweat of a young woman and a young, free from death. Oh
endless hole, where it exits and enters the endless sea Oh I wish terrible smell your smell makes lewd and mournful girl behind the dresses of all women.
Why was not fierce, do not you saved from the muddy and perverse they exhale the dead? Why do not you like a man that impregnates dark and stormy night? • Gonzalo Rojas
• All paintings are the artist Serhiy Reznichenko .
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