Looking back, the longing Corrente
Fuente: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCesqxb6GvzZMn7V-SRVIh4w I loved you from the first day I saw you, we were not the same I a city boy, you country, that difference seal our friendship. Fuente: http://cafebarbantia.barbantia.es/?p=5401 It was the year 1976, at that time an eight year old boy, you a rural town, many years passed, the other day I saw you passing, how cute these, you learned from me, now you are a city.
What a fool I was, I was afraid, forgive me, I was a city boy, understand me, do not be offended, you were forgotten in time, without light, you illuminated me with the light of a lamp, without water, the water you gave me You pulled out of a well, my parents called it a cistern, the streets were not streets, they were sand trails, your paths were grass, you walked along the sand paths, as in a corridor formed by the trees.
To whom I lie, if it is what I am passionate about, I would give anything to return the time ago, not that I do not like how you are now, but in time I keep sweet memories of my childhood, if you looked at the stamp of the Corner, mark with a knife, Luis del Ponce, I know that I confuse you, because on the wall of the church my friends carved their names on the wet cement and mine, said the son of Gauna, as it is understood, if your name is José Luis Fernández, you are the son of Gauna, that I am, life is like that, others called me lichi tortoise, you will say who you really are, I am that person who says that I am, José Luís Fernández son of Gauna the torto Lichi. No matter the name, what matters is what I am, what you teach me, humility, decency, honesty and solidarity, you told me the day I left for Buenos Aires, is not great the bag you carry, Your goods there do not go, but never forget your principles, where do you come from, your origins, this place.
Magic place of a book of stories, children dream of this place, enchanted house, little house with roofs of tiles or straws, sands path, witness of my wanderings, the first kissed, the water lagoon sweets, nest of love , If the lagoon counted its secrets, the sun would blush of the secrets of the place, like forgetting your country mornings, the warm sun, the fresh breeze and the smell of grass wet by the breezes of autumn spray, Dona Minga, Don Pinto, Doña Maruca, the owner of the only general branch store, which she was ashamed to ask for, if she had a large billboard that said, Today does not trust tomorrow if she does not trust herself to be afraid of the nail and put a large nail of Steel on paper, like forgetting their celebrities, Mr. Almirón who won the lottery, until he changed his car and his mules by a big truck. I stop here, a life we can remember, if I know that I do not remember everything, the bad thing I do not want to remember, I'm not an angel, that's better to forget, just an anecdote, the bathroom remember? The one I wrote with my hands, the poem to the place, the poem that said, "this place so sacred that crowds so many people, makes the most cowardly and shits the bravest." How to forget if my mother imposed a punishment, to compensate my evil, to paint all the baths and the wall of the church, punishment exemplifier, entire weeks work to pay my evil, that's how I met the father, even offered me to be altar boy of the church , to me………. If right to me ...... .. Poor little angel.
You know what made me want, who did not want the toothless little boy, the one with the brown eyes, the one I want from Mrs. Pinto, being pregnant with her youngest daughter, great was her wish, life gave her.
Look at you now Barrio Amigo, how beautiful are you, you have lighting, a school, a plaza, a police station, many stores, a school, your paved streets are, only the old thump, the only witness of our friendship, I look at you and not I think how cute you are
The run of the years did his thing, he turned you into this elegant city, on the other hand, to me, the life of his step, the grooves, the nicks, plasmo in my face the passage of time, I'm already great 48 years have passed The gray hairs say present, many things change in me, you almost do not know me, but I tell you and I repeat, I am still the same, I keep intact the memories of our friendship.
How much I would give, to go back time, but a day, a few hours, run through your streets barefoot, rest in the old grove, play with friends, re-carve the church bathroom, return the father , That in the sky is the guainas of my childhood, the daughter of Dona Maruca and her brown eyes, pay the notebook that never pays, was right Dona Maruca, not to be trusted, in the place less thought the nail this.
Dear friend, the memories invade me, never forget me, never I am, I promise that your memories I take with me, to the promised land, to the land without evil.
A The memory of my beloved Barrio Ponce http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eJgTGE-k3H4/UmWjlyDqrLI/AAAAAAAAAEA/9rF647O_E7Y/s1600/100_1092.JPG Fuente: http://conocepasodeloslibres.blogspot.com.ar/2013/10/parque-turismo.html Fuente: https://susanaparejas.com/2015/10/22/donde-el-agua-brilla/
José Luis Corrientes Argentina