
Salto la verja verde del jardín de tus jazmines,
y me revuelco en sus pétalos sonoros,
sonoros porque cantan la saeta de la vida,
la vida que se arriesga a ser tu vida…
Elevo mis ojos pardos hacia el púrpura del cielo,
el cielo al amanecer que espanta mi desespero,
y le pido al camarero que me me ponga aquí otro orujo,
para saber si soy digno de ese lujo…
C.2021, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 26 de diciembre de 2021, València, España 🇪🇸
Your imagery is lovely. For me, not at all fluent in you Spanish, this does not translate well. For my ignorance, I can only imagine an aspiring lover, fortifying himself with a bit of aged fruit of a vine other than jasmine.
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Thank you Espie. This is the story of a guy sitting in a bar in Galicia, thinking of a girl he saw in a garden full of jasmine and fenced, so he fantasises about jumping over the fence and rolling around in jasmine petals until he sees the sky turning purple, and coming back to reality, realising the bar would close soon, he asks the barman for another “Orujo” an herb liquor very common in Galicia…
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Thank you for offering explanation. Off the mark, I was, but not completely. My education continues.
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Cheers Espie. And a lovely Boxing Day to you!
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Excelente poema Francisco. Un gran abrazo amigo.
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Muchísimas gracias Manuel, un fuerte abrazo.
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Beautiful lines! Nice imagination of the guy. Well shared thanks 💓🤗😊
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Thank you so much Priti!
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You are most welcome! 💓🤗
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♥️
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