La Partida (en memoria de nuestra queridísima Tia Julieta)

El tiempo pasando desde arriba me mira,
El blanco y el negro el mundo domina,
Cuando de repente una noticia por dentro fulmina,
Alguien muy amado de esta tierra ha partido.

Frío nevado sin nieve,
Día soleado sin sol,
Nos golpea con puños al pecho,
Y el frío nos llega al corazón.

Congelados están mis pulmones,
El suéter prestado devolví,
Alguien a mi corazón muy cercano ha partido,
Y yo el frío resistí.

Su cara de lejos ví,
Pensé que mucho para mí sería,
Pensé que evitarlo mejor sería,
Pero me di cuenta que verla tenía que.

Adios quería decirle,
Nunca la oportunidad se dió,
Cuanto la quiero de nuevo recordarle,
Pero ella ya partió.

Su cara de lejos ví,
Palidez cubriendo su ser,
Una extraña piel sin vida,
Conteniendo más vida que muerte.

Quizás fue porque de lejos la ví,
O mis húmedos ojos se equivocaron,
Pero muerta no estaba la bella señora,
Parecía apenas dormida.

Su pálida piel amorosamente cubierta,
De recuerdos, memorias y tesoros,
De risas, de llantos y amores,
De todo lo que es, fue y será.

Se que esta tierra ya dejó,
Que nunca más la vivirá,
Pero sé tambien que ella aquí esta,
Su presencia fuerte se mantiene.

Yo no puedo ver donde está,
Veo en todos lados, pero no la puedo encontrar,
No está arriba,
No está abajo,
No esta ni en América ni en África,
Ni en Europa o Asia,
Ni en ningún lado de este mundo.

Pero su voz me llama con cariño,
Y se qué no solo desapareció,
Se que en algún lado en algún lugar,
Ella esta cubierta completa de paz.

Ella esta en el cielo,
Ella esta con Dios,
Sin importar quien era,
O cual era su religión.

Ella esta en el cielo,
Pues digna de eso y más era,
Pero en otro lado está,
Puedo sentirlo en mi ser.

De todos sus seres queridos,
Ella esta en el cerebro,
Ella esta en el pulmón,
Ella esta en las memorias,
Ella esta en el corazón.

Ella nunca morirá,
Pues todos la cargamos con nosotros,
Ella nunca morirá,
Vivirá por siempre en esta tierra,
En nuestro cuerpo, alma y corazón.

Te extrañaremos Tia Julieta,
Pero no te diré adios,
Pues tú no has partido,
Sino has cubierto la tierra con tu ser,
Y ejemplo de bondad y amor has dado,
Ha quien enfrente tuyo ha cruzado.

Y eso es lo que pienso...

Las luces de mil luciérnagas y el aroma de mil rosas blancas,

-María Gabriella Párraga.

Ballerina Dreams

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

Her feet that swayed and floated,

Waltzing and turning,

Over my sugar coated dreams.

The flowers of your hair resemble you, 

Their petals look like your lips,

And their color to your cheeks,

It is far from a coincidence, I usually think.

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

For life is too short,

And you are too young,

Keep spinning those feet,

Until the sky, waltzing, you meet.

That crown of roses that in your hair you wear,

Their scent is drawn away by yours,

Twice as sweet, and twice as good,

It is far from a coincidence, my mind repeats.

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

For you portray grace itself,

And your feet can finally reach,

Reach all of the stars we have seen,

With our own eyes many nights,

And guided us home with a song.

All the roses I see resemble you,

In scent, beauty and color,

There's no doubt when saying,

That for all the roses on this lonely Earth,

You were God's only muse

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

For the sun and moon have kissed you,

And the clouds and stars have joined you,

And all that is, is dancing,

Dancing along with you.

Oh, spinning beauty of love,

Have I seen one like you before,

I don't remember quite still,

For all the world I've seen in maps, 

But never in the colors you have just given it. 

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

The sun has gone to dance as well,

The moon is at your hight, but with respect,

It embraces all your moves, and like it, you start to glow,

The moon has joined you,

You became the moon.

If I hold you in my arms,

As a tiny little doll you'd be,

Fragile, and transparent,

Made of delicate white crystal,

Yet shining like diamonds, yet to show all their beauty.

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina, 

As on Earth the day is over,

But the dawn lies far away,

For we both have ran farther,

Than any man has been.

And all the stars,

And moons,

And suns,

All have joined her,

And all are dancing,

Slowly becoming part of her,

And her becoming part of them,

They're all one, and dance to the melody of the universe,

The purest melody of the purest of love.

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

As no matter how far from the world we are,

No matter how much we dance,

I'll always be here,

Holding your rose scented hand,

Stretching mine to reach you.

Even if on Earth I lay,

While the cosmos you explore,

My head high I'll hold still,

As you come back, to wipe my tears away.

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

For your dancing feet are not tired,

And keep spinning and waltzing,

To the melody of God,

But if you keep turning and turning,

And I find myself lucky,

Those feet will bring you back to me again.

This poem came out of my head today, I had been thinking of ballet, and I think it is one of the most graceful, and beautiful ways to express love and art. The music is complementary, and quite essencial as well, I think instrumentals are songs that express the composer's soul without lyrics, but make it even more real, it becomes the symphony of the composer's heart, and the dance is another symphony joining it, and showing they're own melody by graceful movement. I adore ballet with all my might, and as much as I would love to dance ballet, maybe it's for the best, my weak knees would not manage to do most of the moves, for as elastic as I can get to be. Besides, from afar I can watch it and see it, and quietly join it. Quietly, subtly become one with many of the souls that dance, and my eyes can see the music notes flying from outside their chests, along with their feelings and love for the world. Dancing is their way of showing the world their gratefulness, their gratefulness of hearing their own hearts beating, and their skin tickling, and lungs breathing.

Or at least that's what I think...

The kisses of a thousand winds, and the waltzing of a thousand stars,

-Maria Gabriella Parraga