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Feliz noche mis queridos suscriptores. Les entrego un poema de un amor imposible "EL SEMINARISTA DE LOS OJOS NEGROS" del autor Miguel Ramos Carrión. ¡Gracias! siempre por estar y dejarme comentarios tan hermosos, son regalos que quedan en mi corazón y en mi canal.
No olviden escuchar con 🎧 Auriculares
Abrazos envueltos de deseos de salud y amistad.
Voz, edición: Aína Neruda.
Imágenes sobrepuestas a mi imaginación.
Miguel Ramos Carrión (Zamora, 17 de mayo de 1848-Madrid, 8 de agosto de 1915) fue un dramaturgo, periodista y humorista español. La ciudad de Zamora le honra con el nombre de una calle céntrica, así como el Teatro Ramos Carrión.
Happy night my dear subscribers. I give you a poem of an impossible love "THE SEMINARIAN WITH THE BLACK EYES" by the author Miguel Ramos Carrión. Thank you! always for being there and leaving me such beautiful comments, they are gifts that remain in my heart and on my channel.
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Hugs wrapped with wishes for health and friendship.
Voice, editing: Aína Neruda.
Images superimposed on my imagination.
Miguel Ramos Carrión (Zamora, May 17, 1848-Madrid, August 8, 1915) was a Spanish playwright, journalist and humorist. The city of Zamora honors him with the name of a central street, as well as the Ramos Carrión Theater.
From the window of an old shack
open in summer, closed in winter
through greenish glass and thick lead,
a woman from Salamanca with blond hair
and eyes that look like pieces of heaven,
while sewing mixes with prayer,
See all the evenings go by in silence
seminarians going for a walk.
She lowers her head, without raising her body,
They march in two lines, leisurely and austere,
no more happy note about the black suit
than the red scholarship that girdles his neck,
and that on the back almost touches the ground.
A seminarian, among all of them,
He always walks upright, with a resolute air.
The black cassock draws his body
gallant and airy, flexible and slender.
He, only on the sly and with suspicion
That his gaze behold the clerics,
since in the street he glimpsed in the distance
to the blonde-haired Salamanca
he looks at her very fixedly, with an intense gaze.
And every time he passes he leaves the memory
of that look of her black eyes.
monotonous and slow, time goes by
and the summer dies and the autumn then,
and leaden winter afternoons come.
From the window of the old shack
always alone and sad; praying and sewing
a woman from Salamanca with blond hair
See all the evenings go by in silence
seminarians going for a walk.
But he doesn't see all of them: he sees only one of them,
his black-eyed seminarian;
every time he passes graceful and slender,
he observes the girl who asks for that body
martial arts.
When on her he fixes his open eyes
with lively and bold looks of fire,
he seems to say to her: -I love you!, I love you!,
I don't have to be a priest, I can't be!
If I am not yours, I'm dying, I'm dying!
The girl then is oppressed her chest,
the work suspends and forgets the prayers,
and she already lives only in her thoughts
the black-eyed seminarian
On a rainy winter morning
the girl who happily jumped out of bed,
she heard sad songs and mournful prayers;
a funeral was passing through the narrow street.
A seminarian was undoubtedly the dead man;
Well, four of them carried the coffin on their shoulders,
with the red scholarship on top covered,
and on the scholarship, the black bonnet.
With their hoarse voices the clergymen sang
the seminarians were silent
always in two lines towards the cemetery
like in the afternoons when going for a walk.
The distraught girl watched the procession
she knows them all by dint of seeing them...
just, just missing between them...
the black-eyed seminarian
Running the years, a lot of time passed...
and there in the window of the old hovel,
a poor old woman with white hair,
with a rough complexion and her body bent,
while sewing mixes with prayer,
she sees all the evenings go by in silence
seminarians going for a walk.
The work stops, she looks at them, and seeing them
her blue eyes already sad and dead
silent tears of ice shed.
She alone, old and sad, she still keeps the memory
of the black-eyed seminarian...