Sin palabras

"Without saying it this song will say your name,
without saying, your name will (always) be with me.
The eyes almost blind of my atonishment,
along the atonishment of losing you and not dying!"

Libertad Lamarque sings "Sin Palabras", tango by E.Santos-Discépolo.

There are wounds that cannot be healed, but their authors can be forgiven for what they did.
What is good, what is bad, these are concepts that change over time and depending on the circumstances.
There is only one thing that cannot be indulged ever: lying persistence.
Any hit, inflicted wound or treason could be forgiven if the true deeds were recognized; you cannot make up the past by thinking that you were entitled to do so because you were firstly disappointed by whom you have hurt.
Unfaithfulness does not compensate prior offenses but breeds more grief to human relationships.

This is what the tango “Sin palabras” is about.
These words are to say that I'm not going to punish you for what you did to me, but it is “god”(destiny, karma, your conscience or whatever it was...) which will finally reach you after all of this.
And, there is no doubt, there are tears that can prosecute like this and become a whip that opens up wounds of one history... they are tortures!, they are memories!
How much pain only one truly word would have saved if it had been said at the right moment; but we cannot ever admit that we were wrong, nor plainly forget any of the thought previous offenses to us.
That's how it is the stupid, arrogant and ruthless human nature.


"How Insensitive", bossa nova by Antonio Carlos Jobin. Sung by Judy Garland (1968).

You'll see all that can be made if we're two of us

Tu verras tout ce qu'on peut faire si on est deux

Give some chance to romantic love, my dear. Not all should be dark and miserable nowadays, or vulgarly grey, as Mariano Rajoy wants to become our lives!

A star shining in the pit

Al levantarme hoy he buscado mi alma
Cuando he retirado todo lo que estaba encima
No he encontrado más que el brocal de un pozo
con un fondo negro donde titilaba una estrellita.
Hoy no he hablado con nadie,
no he percibido más que los alegres ruidos de la mañana
Incontaminados, mis oídos se preparan para escuchar
Sin embargo, no se oye nada.
Al final, qué nos espera: ¿conocer la verdad
una luz o sólo un dejarse llevar hasta la oscuridad ?
Hoy yo he visto a una estrella perdida
La luz de mi vida, ¿la volveré a encontrar al final?
Las golondrinas también abandonaron mi jardín
Mala suerte, según los chinos
Según Gumercinda, ¡menos que limpiar!
Todo parece tener algún efecto ya previsto
Estoy intentando arreglar el reloj del abuelo
Quiero volver a oír su tic-tac,
sonido del tiempo que corre y se vá.

Garnatí.

“Make yourself clean, my heart,
I will entomb Jesus myself,
For he shall from now on, in me
for ever and ever,
take his sweet rest.
World, begone, let Jesus in!”
(Joseph of Arimatea said that as he was preparing himself to bury Jesus)