Friday, 18 February 2011


Cuando se dió cuenta de que su vida era una capa sobre otra de cosas sin sentido
arrojó miles de piedras al agua,
rompió el espejo de las estrellas.
Pero fue inútil.
Ellas no eran culpables.
Su vida siguió siendo la tela barata, cosida con torpes puntadas,
con el hilo de la rutina

When he realized that his life was layer upon layer of things meaningless
threw thousands of stones into the water,
broke the mirror of stars.
But in vain.
They were not guilty.
His life continued to be the cheap fabric, sewn with clumsy stitches,
with the thread of the routine


  1. what a beautiful and poetic illustration!

  2. I think your style is very soothing...I love the poem that goes along with it. Keep up the wonderful work!

  3. Wonderful imagery and poetry. quite provocative. i would love to see you work put together in a book.

  4. Ah... I feel sad for him. He seems "flat".
    Your posts are engaging!