-What did you eat fur lunch today? Mister asked me, breaking a long silence.
He spoke clearly and from the sound of his voice, he had had a good education. He had not always been on the streets.
-I had chicken and salad, I said surprised.
-Alone?
-No, I met a friend.
-How much did it cost, for both of you?
-Thirty dollars.
Mister did not like that. Thirty dollars, he repeated.For two people.You know what I had for lunch?
-No.
I had soup free soup from a shelter and I was glad to get it. You could feed a hundred of my Friends for thirty dollars, you know that?
-Yes, Mister.
-Call your boss.
There was a phone on the table. I called Arthur Jacobs. Eight hundred lawyers worked for Drake and Sweeney around the world, but at seventy-nine Jacobs was the oldest of the partners here in Washington. He answered at the first ring of the pone.
-Mr Jacobs?
-Michaell...Are you ok?
-Wonderful-I said.
-What does he want from us?
I spoke to the man ...What do you want Mister?
-Soap and bread, said the man. Get it from the shelter at L Street and 17 th. They put a lot of vegetables in the soup there.
-One soup with bread, I said into the pone.
-No, said the man Get soup and bread for all of us.
-Mr Jacobs, I said.
-I Heard. I can hear him. A shelter for Street people does carryouts?
-Mr Jacobs, please just do it. He has a gun and dynamite.
I put the pone down.
-You, said the man. He was talking to me.What is your name?Michael Brock.
-How much money did you earn last year ?Dont lie.
I thought quikly. I did not lie. A hundred and twenty thousand.
He did not like that. How much did you give to poor people?
-I don t remember, My wife does that.
-Thank you, Mr Brock.
Mister pointed the gun at the other lawyers. He asked all of them the same questions. Nate Malamud, the only partner in the room, earned more then a million dollars.
-More tan a million? Mister said to him. I know you-You walk past me when I sit on the sidewalk every morning. You never give me any money. Why cant you help poor people, homeless people?
Nate was a big man whit White hair. He had been with Drake for thirty years. He was red in the face with embarrasment now.Im sorry, he said.
-Who did the eviction? said Mister suddenly.And again who did teh eviction?
Nobody spoke.None of us understood him. But Mister was not looking for an answer.He looked out of window. Maybe he was thinking. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he was watching the pólice out there.
Our soup and bread arrived half an hour later. There was a knock on the door and somebody outside shouted trough the door...your food.
Mister shouted back...-If I see a policeman out there, I will kill these men-
Then he pointed the gun at my head. The two of us walked slowly to the door.
-Unlock the door and open it very slowly, Mister said.
There was nobody outside. The food was on the floor, near the door.
As I stepped outside and bent down to pick it up, I Heard a shout.
.Stay down. a policeman stepped quikly out of teh office opposite and shot Mister through the head.
Mister fell without a sound, and my face was covered in blood.
Whose blood?Mister was lying on the floor. Half his dead had gone, but the sunglasses still covered one eye. His hands were nowwhere near the dynamite.
Policeman came running from all the offices. -Are you hurt? one of them asked me.
I did not Know. I could not see. There was blood on my face and shirt and a liquid that, I discovered later, was part of Mister brain.
jueves, 5 de julio de 2018
miércoles, 4 de julio de 2018
The street lawyer.-John Grisham.-
Chapter 1-Mister.-
The old black man got into the elevator behind me. He smelled of smoke and cheap wine and life on the streets without soap. His beard and hair were half-gray and very dirty. He was wearing sunglasses and a long dirty coat hung down to is knees.
He loocked fat, probably because he had all his clothes on. In the Winter in Washington the Street people wear all their clothes all the time. They can´t leave any of their clothes at home, because they don´t have a home.
The old man did not belong here. Everything here was expensive.The 400 lawyers in the building who all worked for Drake and Sweeney, were paid an unbelievable amount of money. I knew that because I was a Drake lawyer myself.
The elevator stopped at six. The man had not pushed an elevator buttom. When I stepped out and turned right, he followed me. I pushed teh heavy, wooden door of a big meeting room.
There were eight lawyers at the table inside and they all looked surprised. They were looking behind me, so I turned. My friend from the elevator was standing there. He was pointing a gun at me.
-Put that gun down, said one of the lawyers at the table. His name was Rafter.He was a hard man in a courtroom, maybe the hardest lawyer taht D and S had.
Suddenly a shot hit the ceiling, Rafter eyes opened wide and his mouth shut.
-Lock the door, the man said to me. I locked the door of the meeting room.
-Stand against the Wall. We all stood against the Wall.
The man took off his dirty coat and put it carefully on the large, expensive table in the centre of the room. He had five or six red sticks around his waist, tied there with string. I had never seen dynamite before, but they looked like dynamite to me.
I wanted to run and hope for a bad shot when he fired at me. But my legs were like wáter. Some of the lawyers were shaking with fear and making noises like scared animals.
-Please, be quiet.said the man, calmy. Then he took a long yellow rope and a knife from the pocket of his pants.-You. he said to me.Tie them up.
Rafter stepped forward.-Listen, friend.he said.what do you want?
The second shot went into the Wall, behind Rafter ear.
-Do not call me friend, said the man.
-what would you like us to call you? I asked him, quietly.
-call me Mister.
I tied the eight lawyers with the yellow rope. One of them Barry Nuzzo was my friend. We were the same age, thirty two and we had sarted at Drake on the same day.
Only our marriages were different. His was successful and mine was not. He had three kids. Claire and I did have any. I looked at Barry kids.
We could hear pólice cars outside and noises as the pólice entered the building. Mister pointed at the dynamite around his waist.
-I pull this-he said-and we die.
For a second we all looked at each other, nine White boys and Mister.
I thought of all those terrible shootings you read about in the newspapers.
A crazy worker returns to work after lunch with a gun and kills everybody in his office. There had been killings at fast food restaurants and playgrounds, too.
And those dead people were children or honest workers. Who would care about us ? We were lawyers.
Time passed.
The old black man got into the elevator behind me. He smelled of smoke and cheap wine and life on the streets without soap. His beard and hair were half-gray and very dirty. He was wearing sunglasses and a long dirty coat hung down to is knees.
He loocked fat, probably because he had all his clothes on. In the Winter in Washington the Street people wear all their clothes all the time. They can´t leave any of their clothes at home, because they don´t have a home.
The old man did not belong here. Everything here was expensive.The 400 lawyers in the building who all worked for Drake and Sweeney, were paid an unbelievable amount of money. I knew that because I was a Drake lawyer myself.
The elevator stopped at six. The man had not pushed an elevator buttom. When I stepped out and turned right, he followed me. I pushed teh heavy, wooden door of a big meeting room.
There were eight lawyers at the table inside and they all looked surprised. They were looking behind me, so I turned. My friend from the elevator was standing there. He was pointing a gun at me.
-Put that gun down, said one of the lawyers at the table. His name was Rafter.He was a hard man in a courtroom, maybe the hardest lawyer taht D and S had.
Suddenly a shot hit the ceiling, Rafter eyes opened wide and his mouth shut.
-Lock the door, the man said to me. I locked the door of the meeting room.
-Stand against the Wall. We all stood against the Wall.
The man took off his dirty coat and put it carefully on the large, expensive table in the centre of the room. He had five or six red sticks around his waist, tied there with string. I had never seen dynamite before, but they looked like dynamite to me.
I wanted to run and hope for a bad shot when he fired at me. But my legs were like wáter. Some of the lawyers were shaking with fear and making noises like scared animals.
-Please, be quiet.said the man, calmy. Then he took a long yellow rope and a knife from the pocket of his pants.-You. he said to me.Tie them up.
Rafter stepped forward.-Listen, friend.he said.what do you want?
The second shot went into the Wall, behind Rafter ear.
-Do not call me friend, said the man.
-what would you like us to call you? I asked him, quietly.
-call me Mister.
I tied the eight lawyers with the yellow rope. One of them Barry Nuzzo was my friend. We were the same age, thirty two and we had sarted at Drake on the same day.
Only our marriages were different. His was successful and mine was not. He had three kids. Claire and I did have any. I looked at Barry kids.
We could hear pólice cars outside and noises as the pólice entered the building. Mister pointed at the dynamite around his waist.
-I pull this-he said-and we die.
For a second we all looked at each other, nine White boys and Mister.
I thought of all those terrible shootings you read about in the newspapers.
A crazy worker returns to work after lunch with a gun and kills everybody in his office. There had been killings at fast food restaurants and playgrounds, too.
And those dead people were children or honest workers. Who would care about us ? We were lawyers.
Time passed.
sábado, 30 de junio de 2018
Las espadas samurai.-
Hola ! Hace un tiempo atrás, leí el libro La espada del samurai y aprendí a entender un poco más sobre esta cultura milenaria.
El honor era lo más importante para un samurai, más importante que cualquier otra cosa, inclusive su vida.
Sólo a los samurai se les permitía llevar espadas.
Los ninjas eran una clase de espías y asesinos muy peligrosos.
A menudo vestían de negro. Un ninja no era un samurai...tanto los samuráis como los ninjas tenían mujeres entre los miembros que constituían esas clases.
Qué significaba exactamente la espada que el samurai llevaba ...?
Las espadas samurai son muy utilizadas como objetos de decoración.
Las personas que aprecian las artes marciales o el estilo de vida japonés a menudo las cuelgan en las paredes.
Ser propietario de una espada samurai significa que aprecian la historia de Japón y las virtudes de ese objeto en la sociedad antigua.
El valor de las espadas samurai no sólo proviene de la artesanía...ellos defienden el poder, deber, responsabilidad, defensa personal y ética.
Las espadas samurai fueron utilizadas fueron utilizadas por una clase de personas que apreciaban su libertad por encima de todo
Fueron utilizadas en el combate mano a mano....
Tener que luchar con un arma blanca requiere habilidad del cuerpo y la mente, las habilidades, los reflejos y la técnica...
Sólo a través de mucha práctica, el ejercicio y paciencia, podría ser capaz de manejar la espada samurai para proteger el código de honor...
Los artesanos de la Antigüedad tenían que crear armas no demasiado pesadas para manejar ni tampoco demasiado rígidas...
Y si finalizamos con un poema escrito por un samurai...?
Si yo hubiese sabido
que ya estaba
muerto,
habría lamentado
perder la vida.-
El honor era lo más importante para un samurai, más importante que cualquier otra cosa, inclusive su vida.
Sólo a los samurai se les permitía llevar espadas.
Los ninjas eran una clase de espías y asesinos muy peligrosos.
A menudo vestían de negro. Un ninja no era un samurai...tanto los samuráis como los ninjas tenían mujeres entre los miembros que constituían esas clases.
Qué significaba exactamente la espada que el samurai llevaba ...?
Las espadas samurai son muy utilizadas como objetos de decoración.
Las personas que aprecian las artes marciales o el estilo de vida japonés a menudo las cuelgan en las paredes.
Ser propietario de una espada samurai significa que aprecian la historia de Japón y las virtudes de ese objeto en la sociedad antigua.
El valor de las espadas samurai no sólo proviene de la artesanía...ellos defienden el poder, deber, responsabilidad, defensa personal y ética.
Las espadas samurai fueron utilizadas fueron utilizadas por una clase de personas que apreciaban su libertad por encima de todo
Fueron utilizadas en el combate mano a mano....
Tener que luchar con un arma blanca requiere habilidad del cuerpo y la mente, las habilidades, los reflejos y la técnica...
Sólo a través de mucha práctica, el ejercicio y paciencia, podría ser capaz de manejar la espada samurai para proteger el código de honor...
Los artesanos de la Antigüedad tenían que crear armas no demasiado pesadas para manejar ni tampoco demasiado rígidas...
Y si finalizamos con un poema escrito por un samurai...?
Si yo hubiese sabido
que ya estaba
muerto,
habría lamentado
perder la vida.-
miércoles, 27 de junio de 2018
"No te rindas"-Mario Benedetti.-
No te rindas, aún estás a tiempo
de alcanzar y comenzar de nuevo,
aceptar tus sombras, enterrar tus miedos.
liberar el lastre, retomar el vuelo.
No te rindas que la vida es eso,
continuar el viaje,
perseguir tus sueños,
destrabar el tiempo,
correr los escombros y destapar el Cielo.
No te rindas, por favor, no cedas,
aunque el frío queme,
aunque el miedo muerda,
aunque el sol se esconda y se calle el viento,
aún hay fuego en tu alma,
aún hay vida en tus sueños,
porque la vida es tuya y tuyo también el deseo,
porque lo has querido y porque te quiero.
Porque existe el vino y el amor, es cierto,
porque no hay heridas que no cure el tiempo,
abrir las puertas, quitar los cerrojos,
abandonar las murallas que te protegieron.
Vivir la vida y aceptar el reto,
recuperar la risa, ensayar el canto,
bajar la guardia y extender las manos,
desplegar las alas e intentar de nuevo,
celebrar la vida y retomar los cielos,
No te rindas, por favor no cedas,
aunque el frío queme,
aunque el miedo muerda,
aunque el Sol se ponga y se calle el viento,
aún hay fuego en tu alma,
aún hay vid en tus sueños,
porque cada día es un comienzo,
porque esta es la hora y el mejor momento,
porque no estás sola,
porque yo te quiero.-
de alcanzar y comenzar de nuevo,
aceptar tus sombras, enterrar tus miedos.
liberar el lastre, retomar el vuelo.
No te rindas que la vida es eso,
continuar el viaje,
perseguir tus sueños,
destrabar el tiempo,
correr los escombros y destapar el Cielo.
No te rindas, por favor, no cedas,
aunque el frío queme,
aunque el miedo muerda,
aunque el sol se esconda y se calle el viento,
aún hay fuego en tu alma,
aún hay vida en tus sueños,
porque la vida es tuya y tuyo también el deseo,
porque lo has querido y porque te quiero.
Porque existe el vino y el amor, es cierto,
porque no hay heridas que no cure el tiempo,
abrir las puertas, quitar los cerrojos,
abandonar las murallas que te protegieron.
Vivir la vida y aceptar el reto,
recuperar la risa, ensayar el canto,
bajar la guardia y extender las manos,
desplegar las alas e intentar de nuevo,
celebrar la vida y retomar los cielos,
No te rindas, por favor no cedas,
aunque el frío queme,
aunque el miedo muerda,
aunque el Sol se ponga y se calle el viento,
aún hay fuego en tu alma,
aún hay vid en tus sueños,
porque cada día es un comienzo,
porque esta es la hora y el mejor momento,
porque no estás sola,
porque yo te quiero.-
lunes, 25 de junio de 2018
Dos poemas de oriente para compartir....
LAO TSE.-
TAO TE KING.-
Quien conoce a los demás, es listo.
quién se conoce a sí mismo, es sabio.
quién vence a los demás tiene fuerza.
quien se vence a sí mismo es fuerte.
quién tiene vigor, tiene voluntad.
quién se conforma es rico.
quien conserva su lugar, tiene constancia.
quién no sucumbe con la muerte, aquél vive.
LI PO.-
Mientras bebo solo a la luz de la luna.
Un vaso de vino entre las flores,
bebo solo, sin amigo que me acompañe.
Levanto el vaso e invito a la luna
con ella y con mi sombre seremos tres.
Pero la luna no acostumbra beber vino
y mi perezosa sombra solo sabe seguirme.
Festejemos, con mi amiga luna y mi sobra esclava
mientras aún es primavera.
En las canciones que entono vibran rayos lunares
en la danza que ensayo mi sombra se aferra y deshace.
Los tres juntos, antes de beber, holgábamos
ahora, ebrios, cada cual va por su lado
Regocijémonos muchas horas todavía
en nuestro extraño festín inanimado,
para encontrarnos al fin en el Reino de las Nubes !!
TAO TE KING.-
Quien conoce a los demás, es listo.
quién se conoce a sí mismo, es sabio.
quién vence a los demás tiene fuerza.
quien se vence a sí mismo es fuerte.
quién tiene vigor, tiene voluntad.
quién se conforma es rico.
quien conserva su lugar, tiene constancia.
quién no sucumbe con la muerte, aquél vive.
LI PO.-
Mientras bebo solo a la luz de la luna.
Un vaso de vino entre las flores,
bebo solo, sin amigo que me acompañe.
Levanto el vaso e invito a la luna
con ella y con mi sombre seremos tres.
Pero la luna no acostumbra beber vino
y mi perezosa sombra solo sabe seguirme.
Festejemos, con mi amiga luna y mi sobra esclava
mientras aún es primavera.
En las canciones que entono vibran rayos lunares
en la danza que ensayo mi sombra se aferra y deshace.
Los tres juntos, antes de beber, holgábamos
ahora, ebrios, cada cual va por su lado
Regocijémonos muchas horas todavía
en nuestro extraño festín inanimado,
para encontrarnos al fin en el Reino de las Nubes !!
miércoles, 20 de junio de 2018
El gigante de ojos azules.-Nazim Hikmet.-
Un gigante de ojos azules
amaba a una mujer pequeña
cuyo sueño era una casita
pequeña, como para ella,
que tuviera al frente un jardín
con temblorosas madreselvas.
El gigante amaba en gigante.
Su mano, a grandes obras hechas
mal podía construir los muros.
ni usar el timbre de la puerta
de una casita con jardín
de temblorosas madreselvas.
El gigante de ojos azules
amaba a esa mujer pequeña
que pronto se cansó mimosa
de tan desmesurada empresa
que no concluía en un jardín
con temblorosas madreselvas.
El gigante comprende ahora
que amores de tanta grandeza
no caben ni siquiera muertos
en esas casas de muñecas
que al frente tiene un jardín
con temblorosas madreselvas.-
amaba a una mujer pequeña
cuyo sueño era una casita
pequeña, como para ella,
que tuviera al frente un jardín
con temblorosas madreselvas.
El gigante amaba en gigante.
Su mano, a grandes obras hechas
mal podía construir los muros.
ni usar el timbre de la puerta
de una casita con jardín
de temblorosas madreselvas.
El gigante de ojos azules
amaba a esa mujer pequeña
que pronto se cansó mimosa
de tan desmesurada empresa
que no concluía en un jardín
con temblorosas madreselvas.
El gigante comprende ahora
que amores de tanta grandeza
no caben ni siquiera muertos
en esas casas de muñecas
que al frente tiene un jardín
con temblorosas madreselvas.-
domingo, 17 de junio de 2018
Punto final-Anónimo.-
Hola ! Hoy quiero compartir este poema titulado
Punto Final.
Se ha muerto la flor, se ha secado el río.
Las tormentas crudas deshojan el nido.
El campo ha quedado arrasado, herido...
derramados quedan pájaros de olvido.
por celos enfermos...por caprichos míos.
Yo te compartía, tu en mis suspiros.
Fue la vida tan buena !nos regaló hijos
llenando la casa de fresco bullicio.
Sólo entre nosotros crecía un abismo.
Tú me poseías en cuerpo y principios
Yo buscaba fuerzo con Dios, con los míos.
Juro por la paz que te dí mi amor
el primero, el más limpio.
No quedan reproches, ni tuyos ni míos.
El amor se desgasta entre llantos y gritos
en noches en vela, con silencios fríos.
Deseo para ti unos brazos tibios
que te den calor, yo no he podido !
Solo pido a la vida que deje en mi camino
silencios de auroras, brillo de rocío
un árbol con hojas repleto de trinos
y una flor plural...
en las hojas de un libro.
Punto Final.
Se ha muerto la flor, se ha secado el río.
Las tormentas crudas deshojan el nido.
El campo ha quedado arrasado, herido...
derramados quedan pájaros de olvido.
por celos enfermos...por caprichos míos.
Yo te compartía, tu en mis suspiros.
Fue la vida tan buena !nos regaló hijos
llenando la casa de fresco bullicio.
Sólo entre nosotros crecía un abismo.
Tú me poseías en cuerpo y principios
Yo buscaba fuerzo con Dios, con los míos.
Juro por la paz que te dí mi amor
el primero, el más limpio.
No quedan reproches, ni tuyos ni míos.
El amor se desgasta entre llantos y gritos
en noches en vela, con silencios fríos.
Deseo para ti unos brazos tibios
que te den calor, yo no he podido !
Solo pido a la vida que deje en mi camino
silencios de auroras, brillo de rocío
un árbol con hojas repleto de trinos
y una flor plural...
en las hojas de un libro.
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