"Have no fear that the wine [of my book] will fail, like happened at the wedding feast of Canna in Galilee. As much as I draw from the tap, I will replace in the bunghole. In this way the barrel will remain inexhaustible." François Rabelais (1494–1553)
domingo, 30 de marzo de 2014
jueves, 27 de marzo de 2014
WHERE DO THE CHILDREN PLAY, by Cat Stevens
Well I think it's fine, building
jumbo planes,
Or
taking a ride on a cosmic train.
Switch
on summer from a slot machine.
Yes,
get what you want to if you want, 'cause you can get anything.
I
know we've come a long way,
We're
changing day to day,
So
tell me, where do the children play?
Well
you roll on roads over fresh green grass,
For
your lorry loads pumping petrol gas.
And
you make them long, and you make them tough.
But
they just go on and on, and it seems that you can't get off.
Oh,
I know we've come a long way,
We're
changing day to day,
So
tell me, where do the children play?
Well
you've cracked the sky, scrapers fill the air.
But
will you keep on building higher 'til there's no more room up there?
Will
you make us laugh? Will you make us cry?
Will
you tell us when to live? Will you tell us when to die?
I
know we've come a long way,
We're
changing day to day,
But
tell me, where do the children play?
domingo, 23 de marzo de 2014
sábado, 22 de marzo de 2014
jueves, 20 de marzo de 2014
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