CONCURSOS:

Edite o seu Livro! A corpos editora edita todos os géneros literários. Clique aqui.
Quer editar o seu livro de Poesia?  Clique aqui.
Procuram-se modelos para as nossas capas! Clique aqui.
Procuram-se atores e atrizes! Clique aqui.

 

AL MAESTRO

EL  MAESTRO                                                                                                                                                                                                     
El maestro es Ilusión                                                                                                                                                                                            Es esa mujer preñada                                                                                                                                                                                          Que irradia en cada pisada                                                                                                                                                                                El verde de la creación.                                                                                                                                                                            Entrega de corazón                                                                                                                                                                                               Arado sublime y granos                                                                                                                                                                                      Fecundando en los humanos                                                                                                                                                                          Luz de fe, sobre lo mundano                                                                                                                                                                                Consciente, que del futuro                                                                                                                                                                                    Él es el vientre y las manos.                                                                                                     

Si entre golpes del destino                                                                                                                                                                                La tragedia despiadada                                                                                                                                                                                    De un pueblo, no deja nada                                                                                                                                                                                  Un maestro abre el camino.                                                                                                                                                                          Entre el escombro asesino                                                                                                                                                                                Es la mano prodigiosa                                                                                                                                                                                       La mirada milagrosa                                                                                                                                                                                          Es la miel sobre el salitre                                                                                                                                                                                Que desde el noble pupitre                                                                                                                                                                           Planta vida en cada choza.                                                                                                          

Bajo todo movimiento                                                                                                                                                                                            Existe un maestro en pie                                                                                                                                                                                    Que se alimenta de fe                                                                                                                                                                                         Y arranca sueños al viento.                                                                                                                                                                           Ante el trágico momento                                                                                                                                                                                      Que trae sangrantes heridas                                                                                                                                                                              El maestro revive vida,                                                                                                                                                                                    Pues desde tiempos lejanos                                                                                                                                                                             Un maestro tiene mil manos                                                                                                                                                                              Que avivan cosas dormidas.                                                                                                         

Sin el maestro  no hay confianza                                                                                                                                                                        Él no  tiene marcha atrás                                                                                                                                                                                    Es ese labriego audaz                                                                                                                                                                                 
Que se siente en su labranza,                                                                                                                                                                          Ese que siembra esperanza                                                                                                                                                                                Sobre piedras, con porfía                                                                                                                                                                                  Sin el maestro, no sería                                                                                                                                                                                     El hombre la fértil fuente                           
De evolución permanente                                                                                                                                                                                  El mundo se estancaría.

Mery Suescún.

Submited by

segunda-feira, maio 20, 2019 - 21:10

Poesia :

No votes yet

PEDRO NEL JIMENEZ CASTAÑEDA

imagem de PEDRO NEL JIMENEZ CASTAÑEDA
Offline
Título: Membro
Última vez online: há 2 dias 12 horas
Membro desde: 03/24/2011
Conteúdos:
Pontos: 4913

Comentários

imagem de J. Thamiel

coment

muy bonita, felicitaciones

Add comment

Se logue para poder enviar comentários

other contents of PEDRO NEL JIMENEZ CASTAÑEDA

Tópico Título Respostas Views Last Postícone de ordenação Língua
Poesia/Amor PENSÁ QUE YA 0 3 12/04/2019 - 12:42 Espanhol
Poesia/Amor REGALO ESPECIAL 0 19 11/30/2019 - 00:46 Espanhol
Poesia/Meditação CARTA ABIERTA 0 16 11/30/2019 - 00:11 Espanhol
Poesia/Alegria CADA VEZ QUE YO TE VEO 0 10 11/26/2019 - 01:10 Espanhol
Poesia/Dedicado ASÍ ERES PARA MÍ 0 27 11/26/2019 - 01:01 Espanhol
Poesia/Amizade NO LE DIGA 0 13 11/24/2019 - 20:17 Espanhol
Poesia/Amor SI EN TI 0 14 11/24/2019 - 20:12 Espanhol
Poesia/Amor NO SOIS MUJER 0 11 11/24/2019 - 20:07 Espanhol
Poesia/Soneto VOY A LANZAR 0 21 11/18/2019 - 14:54 Espanhol
Poesia/Amizade QUIERO. 0 13 11/18/2019 - 14:35 Espanhol
Poesia/Fantasia QUE ES DE MONTAÑAS 0 11 11/18/2019 - 14:29 Espanhol
Poesia/Amor ORGULLO DE FAMILIA. 0 33 11/17/2019 - 11:32 Espanhol
Poesia/Amor ASÍ TÚ ERES 0 23 11/16/2019 - 01:17 Espanhol
Poesia/Meditação PENSANDO EN OTROS 0 26 11/16/2019 - 01:11 Espanhol
Poesia/Amor HAY VARIAS FORMAS 0 18 11/16/2019 - 01:06 Espanhol
Poesia/Intervenção ASESOR DE CAMPAÑA SEGUNDA 0 116 11/07/2019 - 00:35 Espanhol
Poesia/Intervenção ASESOR DE CAMPAÑA 0 30 11/07/2019 - 00:32 Espanhol
Poesia/Amizade TENGO UN AMIGO 0 62 10/26/2019 - 22:17 Espanhol
Poesia/Amor DIOS QUISO 0 48 10/26/2019 - 14:08 Espanhol
Poesia/Amor AYER Y HOY 50 AÑOS 0 53 10/26/2019 - 13:24 Espanhol
Poesia/Amizade COMO SON LAS COSAS 0 34 10/21/2019 - 22:55 Espanhol
Poesia/Amizade QUE DIOS TE PAGUE 0 47 10/21/2019 - 22:31 Espanhol
Poesia/Amor COMO ASCENDER 0 64 10/21/2019 - 22:01 Espanhol
Poesia/Amor HUBO UN GRITO 0 85 10/12/2019 - 22:49 Espanhol
Poesia/Desilusão PARA QUE TANTO 0 56 10/12/2019 - 22:42 Espanhol