The moth is still there,
in search of light on the table.
And the glass is definitely there,
And the moth does not understand.

I lost the lighter
no phosphoros
only the hot water tank pilot
And I have so many cigarettes!

I must learn hindu,
or imagine how they
This "Brisas del Mar"
does not have any of that
and it smells like a dog.

Today potato cake,
I think well done.
With black olives,
morron, good layer of cheese

The bottle was left in the sideboard
with his cork and hood,
unscathed and surprised

It's just that I do not drink alone
and a bottle is not a company.

I call Pedro, Clemente's nephew
Everything is fine,
That the lagoon still does not freeze
He  awaits me when I want

The address of Clemente
41º31.35 57 "S
68º 41.47 88 "O
but I know how to get there,
where today I would like to be.

The music tonight sounds flat,
It does not envelop me, I leave it anyway
Maybe someone listens
tonight better than me

Kosova returned tired of the forest
she has a hard time and it is hard for her to adjust.
The same will fall asleep at thebottom of the stairs
I called Pablo, I must give him the injection soon.

There is no wind, there are no sounds,
the incense defintively smells like a dog
No offense to anyone

I have to sleep, I'm tired,
but I'm not sleepy .......

The undefeated Sun has been denied us.
There is a cat on the terrace
looking at me,
does that count?

Today caranchos and chimangos
they disputed food,
like every day,
I admire that consistency.

Someone reminded me of Kosova,
the best and greatest friend,
grateful is little,
Thousand!

The sun rose in the east,
where I always wait for it,
but these days I watch where it goes,
to that West ,
where you are somewhere.

A spring afternoon in Vuelta de Oviglado ... never was the green of the leaves so green.

My sister telling me that she would be  mother.

The hot afternoon arriving to Molinos, drinking water and eating bread in the fountain of the square.

The tales of Cachimayo by the light of the embers.

Listen to Patricia's voice calling me to dinner.

The night of love and balconies under the stars with Ro.

In her last autumn ,  Kosova happily running through the snow.