PATRICIA VELASQUEZ DE MERA (Dagor) LIBRE PENSADORA

FLORES PARA NATALIA. Oleo sobre panel. © Dagor PVV

Todo dolor nos llega, aunque la ceguera social pretenda ignorarlo. Hay gente que no escucha los golpes de la lluvia sobre su ventana. © Dagor

En algún rincón del planeta palpitas sin reproches con tu miseria a cuestas, con tus bemoles saturados por la injusticia social. Por eso te escribo, porque eres ubicuo, porque tu soledad muerde mi felicidad con cada puesta de sol. Eres tú quien inspira mis lágrimas de frustración y de ternura. Como lluvia en el verso, siempre te conviertes en palabra sobre el lienzo de mi corazón. ©Dagor

He recounted the story with the softness that characterizes him. He carefully knitted his words together. “The Sun was chasing me on my way over Les Alpes Maritimes. There will always be magic between the mountains, the Sun and I, therefore, the happiness that I felt that day was not a new one. Little houses aligned a joyful row that illuminated the landscape, but they seemed distant until I came close enough to appreciate their beauty. Then, they looked like music boxes about to unravel. There were hundreds of cars parked on both sides of the road. I walked in a direction driven by instinct and when I made a turn towards an alley, there they were. The whole town was reunited at a food and bric-a-brac fair. The Church shone with its doors open, the colors of the tents of the merchants danced before my eyes, the laughter of men and women spoke of fascinating tales, and the rosy-cheeked toddlers did not stop running around my heart. Everything spoke of a magnificent Sunday morning. I kep...