Palabras llenas de momentos que embellecen la historia de mi ciudad, pinturas que trascienden más allá de la humanidad.
Amo pintar y plasmar lo lindo de mi país.
Desde la copa del árbol hasta la raiz.
Gracias por leerme y disfrutar lo que hago, feliz tarde.
.jpeg)
Words full of moments that embellish the history of my city, paintings that transcend beyond humanity.
I love to paint and capture the beauty of my country.
From the top of the tree to the root.
Thanks for reading me and enjoying what I do, happy afternoon.
Español:
Entre las vastas montañas del páramo se encuentra un niño,
El pequeño chuy está carente de cariño.
Ha crecido como todo infante de campo.
Con muchas carencias creció, esperando el cambio.
A trabajar la tierra con corta edad,
A este niño tempranamente le tocó madurar.
Sin nadie que lo pudiera ayudar.
Le rezaba todas las noches a la divina providencia.
Le pedía que de él tuviera clemencia.
El pequeño chuy era amante de la literatura, el arte y la poesía.
Jamás pudo estudiar, le decían que de eso él no viviría.
Su madre le hablaba con mucha dureza,
No sabía que en su corazón guardaba mucha tristeza.
Nunca pudo pintar los paisajes de su hermoso pueblito.
De todos sus versos jamás hizo un librito.
Se sentía frustrado por no saber escribir,
Se ponía a llorar porque nadie leería lo que tenía para decir.
El pobre chuy jamás tuvo educación.
Aprendió a leer porque una señora de él tuvo compasión.
Lo veía caminar triste por no saber lo que un folleto decía.
El querido chuy fuerza de voluntad tenía.
El joven chuy un día se enamoró,
Una linda niña, hija del dueño de las tierras donde trabajaba lo cautivó.
El joven chuy le recitaba versos que salían de su mente.
Los jóvenes se amaron tan de repente.
El hacendado de esto se enteró.
A alejarla de Chuy se decidió.
Pasaron los años y Chuy nunca más supo de esa señorita.
Esa que le alegraba sus días tristes se marchó.
A su camino de soledad se devolvió.
No hubo día en que no la pensara.
No había remedio, a la ciudad fue llevada.
Pasaron los años y Chuy se resignó.
Trabajó cómo un obrero hasta el día en que murió.
Nadie importancia le dio.
El viejo Chuy murió por una bala perdida en la casa de su explotador.
En las cuentas de contabilidad cayó de dolor.
Estaban manchadas de sangre y llanto las hojas que nunca usó.
Por lo menos, a su tristeza fin le encontró.
.jpeg)
English:
Among the vast mountains of the moor stands a child,
The little chuy is devoid of affection.
He has grown up like any field infantryman.
With many deficiencies he grew up, waiting for the change.
To work the land at a young age,
This child had to grow up early.
With no one to help him.
He prayed every night to divine providence.
He asked her to have mercy on him.
The little chuy was a lover of literature, art and poetry.
He could never study, they told him that he would not live on that.
His mother spoke very harshly to him,
He did not know that he held a lot of sadness in his heart.
He was never able to paint the landscapes of his beautiful little town.
Of all his verses he never made a little book.
He was frustrated at not knowing how to write,
He would cry because no one would read what he had to say.
Poor chuy never had an education.
He learned to read because a lady of his had compassion.
I saw him walk sad for not knowing what a brochure said.
The dear chuy willpower had.
The young chuy one day fell in love,
A pretty girl, the daughter of the owner of the land where he worked, captivated him.
The young chuy recited verses that came out of his mind.
The young people loved each other so suddenly.
The landowner found out about this.
He decided to get her away from Chuy.
Years passed and Chuy never heard from that lady again.
The one who made his sad days happy left.
He returned to his lonely path.
There wasn't a day when I didn't think about it.
There was no remedy, she was taken to the city.
Years passed and Chuy resigned himself.
He worked as a laborer until the day he died.
Nobody gave it importance.
The old Chuy was killed by a stray bullet in the house of his exploiter.
In the accounting accounts he fell from pain.
The leaves that he never used were stained with blood and tears.
At least, to her sadness she finally found him.
Las fotos y el poema en su totalidad son de mi total autoría intelectual.
The photos and the poem in its entirety are my total intellectual authorship.
Congratulations @poetindarkness! You have completed the following achievement on the Hive blockchain and have been rewarded with new badge(s) :
Your next target is to reach 400 upvotes.
You can view your badges on your board and compare yourself to others in the Ranking
If you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word
STOPCheck out the last post from @hivebuzz: