LA TARDE GRIS
La tarde *gris extiende su manto largo,
los petirrojos *rojos regresan a sus nidos...
Yo regreso a casa entre nostalgias *azules
no me gusta ver que el sol amarillo oculte su hermosa cara
y encapote con nubes plomizas mis sueños despiertos.
Esta tarde de cuchillos de pena,
parece que entre su cielos tristes me hablara,
mis secretos íntimos escrutara,
y mil misterios ocultara en sus venas.
Las bancas* marrones de sus parques
están mudas, calladas, casi muertas,
me invitan perfumes de sombra en sus cubiertas;
miles de pensamientos grises en sus embarques.
Tarde gris de palomas solitarias,
y hojas desahuciadas,
devuélveme la ilusión de vivir
en tus farolas emisarias.
Autora: Edith Elvira Colqui Rojas-Perú-Derechos Reservados
I return home between nostalgia blue
I don't like to see the yellow sun hide its beautiful face
and overcast my waking dreams with leaden clouds.
This afternoon of sorrow knives,
it seems that among his skies he speaks to me,
my intimate secrets will scrutinize,
And a thousand mysteries will hide in his veins.
The brown benches of its parks
They are mute, quiet, almost dead,
I am invited by shadow perfumes on their covers;
Thousands of gray thoughts on their shipments.
Gray afternoon of lonely pigeons,
and evicted leaves,
give me back the illusion of living
in your emissarial street lamps.
Author: Edith Elvira Colqui Rojas-Peru-Rights Reserved
Autora: Edith Elvira Colqui Rojas-Perú-Derechos Reservados
The gray afternoon extends its long mantle,
I return home between nostalgia blue
I don't like to see the yellow sun hide its beautiful face
and overcast my waking dreams with leaden clouds.
This afternoon of sorrow knives,
it seems that among his skies he speaks to me,
my intimate secrets will scrutinize,
And a thousand mysteries will hide in his veins.
The brown benches of its parks
They are mute, quiet, almost dead,
I am invited by shadow perfumes on their covers;
Thousands of gray thoughts on their shipments.
Gray afternoon of lonely pigeons,
and evicted leaves,
give me back the illusion of living
in your emissarial street lamps.
Author: Edith Elvira Colqui Rojas-Peru-Rights Reserved