Els Àngels - Barcelona

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●═══════◄☜❤☞►══════════●❤●═════════◄☜❤☞►════════●
♫ ♪ Dejaré que el tiempo cure todas las heridas,
aunque queme por dentro se que voy a renacer.

Cuando el cielo llora, nunca nadie le pregunta
¿dónde duele?, ¿porqué llueve?, ¿porqué deja de llover?
¿qué es lo que pasa si todavía estoy vivo, todavía respiro?
¿cómo entregarme en cada nuevo suspiro después de ti?

Después de ti ya no hay nada,
ya no queda más nada, nada de nada.
despues de ti es el olvido
un recuerdo perdido, nada de nada.♫ ♪
●══════◄☜❤☞►══════════●❤●═════════◄☜❤☞►═══════●

ƸӜƷ ►═════════════●► ƸӜƷ ◄●═════════════◄ ƸӜƷ

La Mariposa Azul (un relato oriental)

Había un señor viudo que vivía con sus dos hijas curiosas e inteligentes. Las niñas siempre le cuestionaban todo, hacían muchas preguntas a las que el padre a veces sabía responder, pero en ocasiones no se sentía con la sabiduría suficiente como para aclarar las dudas que ellas manifestaban. Como pretendía brindarles la mejor educación, mandó a las niñas de vacaciones con un sabio que vivía en lo alto de una colina.
El sabio siempre respondía todas las preguntas sin siquiera dudar. Impacientes con el maestro, las jóvenes decidieron inventar una pregunta que él no pudiera responder correctamente.
Entonces, una de ellas apareció con una hermosa mariposa azul que usaría para engañar al sabio.
-¿Qué vas a hacer? –preguntó la hermana. –Voy a esconder la mariposa en mis manos y le voy a preguntar si está viva o muerta. Si él dice que está muerta, abriré mis manos y la dejaré volar. Si dice que está viva, la apretaré y la mataré. Así, cualquiera que sea su respuesta, ésta será equivocada.
Las dos niñas fueron entonces al encuentro del sabio que estaba meditando.
-Tengo aquí una mariposa azul, dígame, sabio, ¿está viva o muerta?. Muy calmadamente el sabio sonrió y respondió: -Depende de ti…ella está en tus manos…
Así es nuestra vida, nuestro presente y nuestro futuro. No debemos culpar a nadie cuando algo falla, somos responsables por lo que juzgamos bueno o malo. Nuestra vida está en nuestras manos, como la mariposa azul. Nos toca a nosotros escoger qué hacer con ella y hacernos cargo de las consecuencias
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La mariposa revolotea como si desesperara en este mundo.

Kobayashi Issa

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ƸӜƷ ►═════════════●► ƸӜƷ ◄●═════════════◄ ƸӜƷ

Volveré temprano. Te traeré la aurora y, para tu espalda, polvo de mariposa. Si nadan estrellas hoy bajo tu ropa, allí estaré yo. Y si te despiertas antes de que salga el sol y algo se enreda en tu pecho, ese seré yo.
ƸӜƷ ►═════════════●► ƸӜƷ ◄●═════════════◄ ƸӜƷ

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ƸӜƷ
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•`* El vuelo de la mariposa ƸӜƷ

Vi una mariposita volar,
Y qué, si diminuta, pues era hermosa.
Sus alitas coloridas y revoltosas
Encerraban un encanto sin igual.
(\\./).
(/l\\).
Sobrecogió mi corazón
Campaba decidida por la ciudad.
Pocos reparaban en ella.
Mandaba la prisa y los debo.
Tanta belleza se perdían
no pueden imaginar.
(\\./).
(/l\\).
Mire su vuelo y pregunte,
¿A dónde vas criaturita?
¿Cómo en el campo no estás?
Y ella me respondió,
lagrimeando sincera.
Es que ahí de donde vengo
Ya se olvidaron de amar.
No puedo volar contenta.
No tiene sentido estar.
En busca voy de buenas flores
Que me sepan valorar.
(\\./).
(/l\\).
Vuela mariposita valiente, vuela
Que se hace muy tarde ya.
Un campo hermoso te espera,
Y calor del de verdad
✿
( `•.¸
`•.¸ ) ✿
✿¸.•)´
(.•´
`*.*´¨) ✿
✿¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•`* ✿*Laura L ƸӜƷ

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ƸӜƷ
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•`*El Beso de la Mariposa ƸӜƷ

El beso de la mariposa
es un acorde del arpa, la armonía,
una ofrenda a los ojos, como el éter de hermosa.
´ ƸӜƷ
Un arco iris de colores que sobre el polen sueña
y abre sus alas, se esparce sobre el jardín dorado y vuela,
sensible al revoloteo del trino y se escapa.
ƸӜƷ
.¸.•)´. . ƸӜƷ
.(.•´. ƸӜƷ
De flor en flor va la polilla,
con su desahogado vuelo se levanta,
temprano madruga, del rocío matutino bebe su gota.
.(.•´.ƸӜƷ
Abejas de miel, espiga de trigo, sol y agua,
se despierta la mañana y su aroma atiza
perfume de especias y olor a cielo en la tierra.
( `•.¸. . ƸӜƷ
..`•.¸) . . .ƸӜƷ
..¸.•)´
.(.•´ ƸӜƷ
El beso de la mariposa
es un céfiro fresco, una caricia,
una melodía del preludio que ya interpreta.
ƸӜƷ
.¸.•)´. . ƸӜƷ
.(.•´. ƸӜƷ
( `•.¸. . ƸӜƷ
..`•.¸) . . .ƸӜƷ
..¸.•)´
.(.•´ ƸӜƷ Jesus Paredes Ortiz