Háblame de flores al viento
de niños viviendo a su tiempo
no de noticias que ennegrecen y violentan
la vida de quién merece respeto.
Bésame o no me despiertes
de sueños dignos y reconfortantes
sé el bálsamo hermoso y necesario
ante un mundo que salta al vacio sin parapente.
Cántame melodías que rescaten la pureza
acompañados con acordes de inspiración y belleza
que siembren sosiego donde la paz se ha escondido
y que el amor y la bondad levante al hombre herido.
Releer la historia entre la verdad y la mentira
embarcarse en un viaje entre la bondad y la maldad
bajarse de un tren sin conocer la estación
cantar a toda voz sin haber elegido esa canción.
Confundir con los hilos de la incomprensión
es parte de esta absurda canción
que parece golpear sin anestesia y sin piedad
al que crece y edifica su propia realidad.
Háblame de tierras sin contaminación
del valor del que da, sin esperar comisión
aunque pague con destierro y olvido
mientras otros triunfan con astucia y mentiras.
Contagiémonos con la luz que bendice al verbo
con el susurro de las hojas alejadas del invierno
con el trinar de las aves que alegran al poeta
con esas flores que danzan, mientras los niños juegan.
Speak to me of flowers in the wind
of children living in their own time
not of news that blacken and violate the life of those who deserve respect.
the life of those who deserve respect.
Kiss me or don't wake me up
of worthy and comforting dreams
be the beautiful and necessary balm
before a world that jumps into the void without a paraglider.
Sing me melodies that rescue purity
accompanied with chords of inspiration and beauty
that sow calm where peace has hidden itself
and let love and kindness lift the wounded man.
To reread history between truth and falsehood
to embark on a journey between goodness and wickedness
to get off a train without knowing the station
to sing at the top of one's voice without having chosen that song.
To confuse with the threads of misunderstanding
is part of this absurd song
that seems to strike without anesthesia and without mercy
to the one who grows and builds his own reality.
Speak to me of unpolluted lands
of the value of the one who gives, without expecting commission
even if he pays with banishment and oblivion
while others triumph with cunning and lies.
Let us be infected with the light that blesses the word
with the rustle of the leaves far from winter
with the chirping of the birds that gladden the poet
with those flowers that dance, while children play.
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Siempre agradecido por el apoyo a mi contenido!
Saludos y mucho éxito!
De nada @orlandogonzalez 😊👍 ¡Le deseamos un buen día!