#luis vidales

[lobato-estepario]

A   UNA   FLOR

Tú tienes un alma

que sube por el tallo

y te alumbra.

Pero tu alma no sabe hablar

ni sabe quejarse

ni discurrir sobre las cosas.

Yo quisiera  -oh pequeña flor

absorta en la materia-

darte del alma intelectiva

porque a mí me pesa mucho toda la que llevo

y a tu alma le falta

un poco de dolor.

Luis Vidales

Morning Blossum, Vladimir Kush

[forsoothsayer]

The Shadows by Luis Vidales

When the moon rises shadows begin to jump up and down. Plaf! Plaf! You hear their sound as they fall. And the ground began to fill with bizarre beings. All night I watched them jumping up and down. One of them fell near me it went with me hiding behind me or jumping in front and aping my movements – from which I have deduced that the shadow is everyone’s monkey. Afterwards – I don’t know how the shadow tangled up around my feet and made a real racket right in the middle of the street with its terrible shrieking. Since then I get panic-stricken and I advise everybody to take precautions not to get tangled in their shadows as they walk.

[forsoothsayer]

National Cinema by Luis Vidales

Through the yellowish lantern sky pass the Colombian clouds. And how they show they haven’t rehearsed before. The trees – because it’s the first time they have worked in the movies – appear stiff inhibited affected. On the outskirts of Bogotá prowls the moon. And what a moon! It is a moon varnished white and with its own installation. Outside the night sky dark . . . pompous is an immense Gongorism.             Then I see the moon. Oh! Oh! It projects on the wall the anthropometric charts of the passers-by! They are like burnt plates escaping! And in the movie theatre of the night I applaud the incoherent pictures of this Pathé baby.

[albessan]

Como escribir es lo más parecido a un parto, yo siempre escribo acostado.

LUIS VIDALES

[enfalua]

Tomó el diario. Leyó: "El señor N. N. descansó en la paz del Señor". Se tomó el pulso. Nada. Se palpó el pecho. Estaba frío. Sintió una absoluta indiferencia. Tiró el diario y volvió a meterse en la cama, más, pero muchísimo más indiferente que nunca.

"El muerto”, Suenan timbres, Luis Vidales

[vrnoticiascultura]

#Noticias #Cultura

[al-buen-tuntun]

Siempre la encontraba llorando a solas. Hasta que descubrí que lo hacía para sentirse acompañada.

"Metodología de la tristeza", de Luis Vidales.

[lapalomafolladora-blog]

Luis Vidales. Cuanta verdad...