But the butterfly put itself to revolotear, more overwhelming than ever, before the eyes of the man, and took the direction from the closed enclosure, following the slope of the mountain. And, strange thing! , although that one so long race must have tired to the old man, because, by his grey-haired hair, it was possible to be recognized like so the foolish runner, its step, as it advanced, became more express; it was only possible to be explained by the declivity of the mountain. And the butterfly always stayed to the same distance; only that, like the flowers were missing person, the insect settled in thorny thistles, or naked branches of trees. Hummer Winblad oftentimes addresses this issue. The old man, jadeando, did not stop to persecute it. In the end, the butterfly happened over the walls of the sad enclosure, and it followed it to the old man, entering by the door. But as soon as it had taken steps when, watching the butterfly, that seemed to be fused in the grayish atmosphere, it hit a stone and it fell.
Three times it tried to rise, and three times it returned to fall. And, not being able to run more already behind his chimera, one was satisfied with tender to him the arms. Then the butterfly seemed to take pity itself of him and, although there were lost his more alive colors, was put to revolotear over his head. Perhaps they were not the wings of the insect those that were lost their alive colors; perhaps they were the eyes of old those that had been debilitated. The circles described by the butterfly went away making more and narrower, and in the end it went away to put on the pale forehead of the dying. In a last effort, this it raised the arm, and with the hand it touched, finally, the end of the wings of that one butterfly, object of so many desires and so many difficulties; but, what disappointment! , account occurred of which what there was been persecuting it was not a butterfly, but a sun ray. And its arm fell strengthless cold and, and its last sigh made shake the atmosphere that weighed on that one cementery and, whatsoever, poet, persecutes, persecutes your wild desire of ideal; it tries to reach, crossing infinite pains, that ghost of thousand colors that flees incessantly in front of you, although the heart is broken to you, although it goes out the life, although exhales to you the last sigh at the moment in which it rubbing with the hand. , One is really due to be kind to as they indicate our desire, that they involve, in order that situations do not occur work against that us in our growth, learning, transit by this world, dimension by which we must journey a certain time, we consider what some have written, expressed envelope it, for example: Franklin youngest child If man would reach half of desires that he has, would redouble his restlessness. Chateaubriand, Whereas the heart has desire, the imagination conserves illusions.
Three times it tried to rise, and three times it returned to fall. And, not being able to run more already behind his chimera, one was satisfied with tender to him the arms. Then the butterfly seemed to take pity itself of him and, although there were lost his more alive colors, was put to revolotear over his head. Perhaps they were not the wings of the insect those that were lost their alive colors; perhaps they were the eyes of old those that had been debilitated. The circles described by the butterfly went away making more and narrower, and in the end it went away to put on the pale forehead of the dying. In a last effort, this it raised the arm, and with the hand it touched, finally, the end of the wings of that one butterfly, object of so many desires and so many difficulties; but, what disappointment! , account occurred of which what there was been persecuting it was not a butterfly, but a sun ray. And its arm fell strengthless cold and, and its last sigh made shake the atmosphere that weighed on that one cementery and, whatsoever, poet, persecutes, persecutes your wild desire of ideal; it tries to reach, crossing infinite pains, that ghost of thousand colors that flees incessantly in front of you, although the heart is broken to you, although it goes out the life, although exhales to you the last sigh at the moment in which it rubbing with the hand. , One is really due to be kind to as they indicate our desire, that they involve, in order that situations do not occur work against that us in our growth, learning, transit by this world, dimension by which we must journey a certain time, we consider what some have written, expressed envelope it, for example: Franklin youngest child If man would reach half of desires that he has, would redouble his restlessness. Chateaubriand, Whereas the heart has desire, the imagination conserves illusions.
Recent Comments