Tuesday, May 17, 2016

HUMOR AND COSTUMBRISM. GUANTANAMO MOM AMOUR.

GUANTANAMO MOM AMOUR 

    As in the old Alain Resnair movie can no longer say Guantanamo mon amour and less living a romance under the rubble of a war. If it looks like a city after a bombing, only the center of Marti Park remosado as an image in Technicolor for tourists who spend long in their micro refrigerated is pleasing to the eye. For my house passes a crier selling ice cream in that terrible summer or offering mangos and dry off season.
    Everyone can live as sought. The salary is not enough and must look for extra money to buy food and clothing. I do not understand the obsession of guantanamerian _ or will of all the cuban people_ by flattery. The empty stomach is not seen but a good cowboy brand is displayed with ostentation. Mind of underdevelopment.    

   I see the Shell of the Marti park smaller as I saw before and the parish of Saint Catalina seems a simple chapel  lost in the distance of the field.    The source of the Avenue and Ahogados where I used to sit and take in the fresh, sporting a spectacular architectural monument that all deformed. Who would think such a landmark is a sculpture.    Huambo the movies have had to put a Roman arches for coupling to the environment. It occupies the space where once was the Luke cinema, an ice cream shop and a space where exhibitions exemplary cattles take place. It was made in all that space one movie, small, austere in style Giron or Breztniana construcion that prevailed in those days.
    The worst thing is to have a picture of the past without seeing that everything changes but change for the worse. The city has become a jumble of small plate houses of two floors. All the same. The landscape does not change throughout giving sight.      No, I can not say "mom amour Hiroshima" has not yet been bombed but people walk through the streets as if it were.

2 comments:

  1. LETRA 'GUANTANAMERA'
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    Enviar letra a un amigo Imprimir letra


    Guajira guantanamera
    guantanamera
    guajira guantanamera
    Yo soy un hombre sincero
    de donde crecen las palmas.
    yo soy un hombre sincero
    de donde crecen las palmas.
    y antes de morir yo quiero
    cantar mis versos del alma.
    Guantanamera ....
    Cultivo una rosa blanca
    en junio como en enero.
    cultivo una rosa blanca
    en junio como en enero.
    para el amigo sincero
    que me da su mano franca.
    Guantanamera ....
    Mi verso es de un verde claro
    y de un carmín encendido.
    mi verso es de un verde claro
    y de un carmín encendido.
    mi verso es un ciervo herido
    que busca en el monte amparo.
    Guantanamera ....

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  2. Yo soy tu verso amigo que busca en el monte amparo y soy tu amigo sincero que te da mi mano franca.

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