"whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it's because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It's your mission on earth." ...."And when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." Paulo Coelho

 

Twenty years from now you will be more dissapointed by the things that you didn´t do than by the ones you did do.. so throw off the bowlines, sail away from safe harbour, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream.Discover... Mark Twain


"Y haciendo cosas que rompo para arreglarlas y volver a romperlas paso mi tiempo...
y el tiempo se acaba...y la vida no espera..."
El niño de las pinturas. (Granada)

la vida es sueño

la vida es sueño

Choose a dream, choose a place, choose companion, choose a date, choose your rites of passage, choose good music, choose good books, choose you lucky charms, choose your fairies and your demons, choose your fears, choose finding yourself, choose getting lost, choose creating yourself, choose me please, choose laughs and dias felices, follow the signs and your fate, and then enjoy the ride .. till the end and say hello to Angels...

domingo, enero 24, 2010

happy burns day... poem to mr jingles..hihi

fear nada

To a Mouse - A Poem by robert Burns

(Written by Burns after he had turned over the nest of a tiny field mouse with his plough. Burns was a farmer and farmers are generally far too busy to be concerned with the health of mice. This poem is another illustration of Robert Burn's tolerance to all creatures and his innate humanity.)

Wee, sleekit, cowran, tim'rous beastie,
O, what panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!
I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave 'S a sma' request:
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' wast,
An' weary Winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.
That wee-bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald.
To thole the Winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!
But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Still, thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

0 awesome people left comments.. muchas gracias: