Farewell letter Garcia. Lyrics - Last letter

"If for one moment God forgot that I just have a rag puppet, and I would give me a piece of life, I would probably say everything that I think, but I would definitely think that I say. I would appreciate things, not for how much they stand, but for how much they mean. I would sleep less, I would have dreamed more, realizing that every minute, when we close your eyes, we lose sixty seconds of light. I would go, until everyone else stand, did not sleep while others sleep. I would listen when others say, and no matter how I enjoyed the wonderful taste of chocolate ice cream.

If God gave me another moment of life, I would dress more modest, I would fall into the sun, substituting the warm rays not only my body, but the soul. The Lord, if I had a heart, I would write all my hatred Nald and waited until the sun comes out. I would draw a sleep / dream Van Gogh on the stars poem Benedetti, and the song Serrat would become a serenade that I would give the moon. I would have watered roses tears to feel pain their spikes and a scarlet kiss of their petals. .. The Lord, if I still had a piece of life, I would not have spent a single day without saying people I love that I love them.

I would convince every man's dear to me in my love and would live in love with love. I would explain those who are mistaken, believing that they stop falling in love when aging, not understanding that they agreed when they stop falling in love! I would give your kid, but allowed him to learn how to fly. Starikov I would convince the fact that death comes not with old age, but with oblivion. I learned so much with you, people, I realized that the whole world wants to live in the mountains, not realizing that real happiness is how we rising in the mountain. I realized that from the moment that for the first time a newborn baby will burn his father's finger in his little cam, he will never let him go back it. I realized that one person had the right to look at the other from the high only when he helps him climb. There are so many things that I could still learn from you, people, but, at the very matter, they are unlikely to use, because when I put on this suitcase, I, unfortunately, will be dead. Always say what you feel, and do what you think. If I knew that today I last see you sleeping, I would firmly hugged you and prayed to God that he would make me your guardian angel. If I knew that I see today, as you leave the doors, I would hugging you would kiss you and call you again to give you more. If I knew that I hear your voice for the last time, I would write to the film all you say to listen to it also, endlessly. If I knew that it was the last minutes, when I see you, I would say: I love you and did not intend, the fool that you knew it. There is always tomorrow, and life provides us with another opportunity to fix everything, but if I am mistaken and today it's all that we have left, I would like to tell you how much I love you, and I will never forget you. Neither the young man nor the old man can be sure that tomorrow will come for him. Today, maybe the last time you see those who love. Therefore, do not wait for something, do it today, because if tomorrow never comes, you will regret that when you have no time for one smile, one hug, one kisses, and when you were too busy to Perform the last desire. Support people close to you, whispering them in your ear, how do you need them, love them and contact them carefully, find time to say: "I'm sorry," "Forgive me", "please thank you" and all those words Love you know. No one will remember you for your thoughts. Asking the Lord wisdom and strength to talk about what you feel. Show your friends as they are important to you. If you do not tell this today, tomorrow will be the same as yesterday. And if you don't do this ever, nothing will matter. Imagine your dreams. This moment came«.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez. (03/06/1927 - 17.04.2014) - Colombian Prosiscript writer, journalist, publisher and political figure. Laureate of the Neostadt Literary Prize (1972) and the Nobel Prize in Literature (1982). The representative of the literary direction of "Magic Realism", which opens unlimited freedom, with which the writers of Latin America spoke the scope of grounding of life and the sphere of the innermost depth of consciousness.

Although this text, in fact, belongs to Peru a little-known Mexican author with the pseudonym Johnny Velch, we decided to post it on our website.

Farewell letter

If God gave me another moment of life, I would dress more modest, I would have been lying on the sun, putting the warm rays not only my body, but also a soul. The Lord, if I had a heart, I would write all my hatred of Ice and waited until the sun comes out. I would draw a sleep / dream Van Gogh on the stars poem Benedetti, and the song Serrat would become a serenade that I would give the moon. I would have watched roses tears to feel pain their spikes and a scarlet kiss of their petals ...

The Lord, if I had still a piece of life, I would not have spent a single day without saying people I love that I love them. I would convince every man's dear to me in my love and would live in love with love. I would explain those who are mistaken, believing that they stop falling in love when aging, not understanding that they agreed when they stop falling in love! I would give your kid, but allowed him to learn how to fly. Starikov I would convince the fact that death comes not with old age, but with oblivion. I learned so much with you, people, I realized that the whole world wants to live in the mountains, not realizing that real happiness is how we rising in the mountain.

I realized that from the moment that for the first time a newborn baby will burn his father's finger in his little cam, he will never let him go back it. I realized that one person had the right to look at another downward only when he helps him climb. There are so many things that I could still learn from you, people, but, at the very matter, they are unlikely to use, because when I put on this suitcase, I, unfortunately, will be dead.

Always say what you feel, and do what you think.

If I knew that today I last see you sleeping, I would firmly hugged you and prayed to God that he would make me your guardian angel. If I knew that I see today, as you leave the doors, I would hugging you would kiss you and call you again to give you more. If I knew that I hear your voice for the last time, I would write to the film all you say to listen to it also, endlessly. If I knew that it was the last minutes when I see you, I would say: I love you, and did not assume a fool that you knew it. There is always tomorrow, and life provides us with another opportunity to fix everything, but if I am mistaken and today it's all that we have left, I would like to tell you how much I love you, and I will never forget you.

Neither the young man nor the old man can be sure that tomorrow will come for him. Today, maybe the last time you see those who love. Therefore, do not wait for something, do it today, because if tomorrow never comes, you will regret that when you have no time for one smile, one hug, one kisses, and when you were too busy to Perform the last desire. Support your people close to you, whispering them in your ear, how do you need, love them and contact them carefully, find time to say: "I'm sorry," "Forgive me", "please, thank you" and all those Words of love you know.

No one will remember you for your thoughts. Asking the Lord wisdom and strength to talk about what you feel. Show your friends as they are important to you. If you do not tell this today, tomorrow will be the same as yesterday. And if you don't do this ever, nothing will matter ... "

The Great Columbian writer Gabriel Garcia Marquez, heavily sick with the cancer of lymphatic glands, addressed readers with a farewell letter:

"If the Lord God had forgotten for a second that I am a rag doll, and gave me a little life, probably, I would not say everything that I think; I would think more about what I say. I would appreciate things not at their cost, but by their significance. I would sleep less, I dreamed more, conscious that every minute with eyes closed is a loss of sixty seconds of light. I would go when others refrain from it, I would wake up when others sleep, I would listen when others say. And no matter how I enjoyed chocolate ice cream!

If the Lord had given me a little life, I would just dress, climbed with the first ray of the sun, exposing not only the body, but also the soul. My God, if I had a little more time, I would challenge my hatred in the ice and waited for the sun. I would draw with the stars, like Van Gogh, dreamed, reading the poems of Benedeti, and Serra's song would be my lunar serenade. I would wash roses with my tears to taste pain from their spikes and a scarlet kiss of their petals.

My God, if I had a little life ... I would not miss the day, so as not to tell your loved one that I love them. I would convince each woman and every man that I love them, I would live in love with love. I would
i proved to people how wrong they are, thinking that when they are aging, they cease to love: on the contrary, they are aging because they cease to love! I would give your child wings and he would have taught him to fly. Starikov, I would have taught the fact that death comes not from old age, but from oblivion. I also learned a lot with you, people. I found out that everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, not guessing that true happiness expects him on the descent. I realized that when the newborn first grabs the father's finger with a tiny cam, he grabs him forever. I realized that a person had the right to look at the other from top to bottom only to help him stand on his feet. I learned so much from you, but, in truth, it's a bit of all this, because by stinging this chest, I'm leaving. "

Do not waste time on a person who does not seek to spend it with you!

Never stop smiling, even when you are sad: someone can fall in love with your smile.

No person deserves your tears, but those who deserve will not make you cry.

If you love something - let go. If it is yours - it will return.

Do not waste time on people who have no time for you.

If one day you do not want to hear anyone, call me - I promise to be silent.

People how right is that thinking when they are aging, then cease to love: on the contrary, they are aging because they cease to love

We choose in a person only what you need themselves, what we lack or what we are weaker. "I love you not for who you are, but for someone who I'm with you !!"

A minute of reconciliation is more expensive than a lifetime, lived in friendship.

Do not make so much effort, all the best happens unexpectedly.

Just because someone does not love you as you want, does not mean that he does not love you with the whole soul.

If a woman is involved in something, I know that everything will be fine. It is clear to me that women rule the world.

Great disasters have always generated great abundance. They make people want to live.

Error is a human property, and the property to dump your guilt to another - the human is doubly.

We must listen to the voice of the child you were once and which exists somewhere within you. If we listen to the child inside us, our eyes will again acquire the shine. If we do not lose touch with this child, our connection with life is not bored.

Love, like nothing else, is a natural talent. Or you can do it from birth, or never will ever.

... She had a rare gift to no longer exist until the need for it.
"One hundred years of loneliness"

The secret of calm old age is to enter a decent collusion with loneliness

Perhaps in this world you are just a person, but for someone you are - the whole world !!!

Every moment of life is an opportunity

The whole world wants to live in the mountains, without understanding that real happiness is how we climb the mountain.

He did everything for her, it seems that everything you can, with the exception of one: I forgot to ask - whether all these efforts are capable of making her happy.

The past is a lie, there are no roads for memory back, each mining spring is idle and the most insane and persistent love is just a presisive feeling.

I do not wear hats so as not to remove it.

Money - the devil's litter.

... I love you not for who you are, and for who I am when I am next to you.

Do not be cheating, do not think something, what we are waiting and hoping, will last longer than you see your eyes.

knowledge and wisdom come to us when they are no longer needed.

Become better and yourself understand who you are before you meet a new person and you will hope that he will understand you.

"Nobody remember you for your thoughts,

Asking the Lord wisdom and strength to talk about what you feel. Show your friends as they are important to you. If you do not tell this today, tomorrow will be the same as yesterday. And if you don't do this ever, nothing will have the meanings. Available your dreams. This moment came. "

Do not be afraid, "he said, lowing his voice. - Not the first time a woman goes crazy because of a man.

Easily mined happiness can not last long.

Smile, do not give trouble pleasure.

A person is not born once and for all on that day when the mother produces him to the light, but life makes him again and again - many times - to be born again.

Weak never enter the kingdom of love, the laws in this kingdom of harsh, women give themselves only to bold and decisive men, they promise them reliability, and this is what women need in life.

Wiser life will not come up with nothing

She was not committed to order, although she seemed to be the opposite, he just had his own desperate method: she hid a mess.

Heart memory destroys bad memories and exalted good, and thanks to this trick, we manage to endure the load of the past.

However, that first experience, with all its guidelines, did not leave bitterness in it, but only a clear conviction that in marriage or without marriage, without God and without the law, but life is not worth a penny if there is no man in bed.

She stared at me intently, and I could not understand where I first saw this girl. Her wet anxious look of the slate in the uneven light of the kerosene lamp, and I remembered - I dream every night this room and lamp will dream, and every night I meet the girl with anxious eyes. Yes, yes, it is her that I see every time, crossing the spontaneous face of dreams, the face of Javi and sleep. I found the cigarettes and lit up, leaning back on the back of the chair and balancing on his hind legs, - the tart of the sourish smoke was fitted with rings. We were silent. I - swaying on a chair, she - hearing thin white fingers over a glass cap of the lamp. Shadows trembled on her centuries. It seemed to me, I have to say something, and I said at random: "The eyes of a blue dog," and she burned sadly: "Yes. Now we will never forget it. " She came out of the luminous circle of the lamp and repeated: "The eyes of a blue dog. I wrote it everywhere, "

She turned and moved to the toilet table. In the Round Moon of the Mirror, her face appeared - reflection of the face, its optical image, double, ready to dissolve in the loosening light of the lamp. The sad eyes of the color of the cooled ash sadly looked at me and dropped me, she opened a pearlescent powder and touched the nasal carp and forehead. "I'm so afraid," she said, "that this room will dreamed of someone else, and he all confuses here." She clicked with a foam lamp, rose and returned to the lamp. "Are you cold?" She asked. "Sometimes ..." I replied. She opened her hands over the lamp, and the shadow from the fingers lay on her face. "I probably caught up," she complained. "You live in an ice city."

Kerassine flats made her skin copper-red and glossy. "You have bronze skin," I said. "Sometimes it seems to me that in real life you should be a bronze statuette in the corner of some museum." "No," she said. "But sometimes it seems to me that I am metallic - when I sleep on the left side and my heart beats in my chest." "I always wanted to hear your heart beating." "If we meet in reality, you will be able to attach your ear to my chest and you will hear." - "If we meet in reality ..." She put her hands on the glass cap and said: "The eyes of a blue dog. I repeat these words everywhere."

Blue dog eyes. With this phrase, she was looking for me in real life, these words were a password for which we had to get to know each other. She went through the streets and repeated as if necessary: \u200b\u200b"Blue Dog's eyes." And in restaurants, making an order, she whispered with young waiters: "Blue Dog's eyes." And on the stubborn glasses, she took her finger on the windows of hotels and stations: "The eyes of a blue dog." People around just shrugged were launched, and the waiters bowed with polite indifference. Somehow in the pharmacy she made a smell, familiar with dreams, and she told the pharmacist: "There is a young man, whom I see in a dream. He always repeats: "Blue Dog's eyes." Maybe you know him? " The pharmacist in response laughed hostile and moved to another end of the counter. And she looked at the new tiled floor of the pharmacy, and the familiar smell was tormented and tormented by her. Without withstanding, she sank to his knees and lipstick wrote on white tiles: "The eyes of a blue dog." The pharmacist rushed to her: "Senorita, you spoiled me the floor. Take a rag and erase immediately! " And the whole evening she crawled on her knees, washing the letters and repeating through the tears: "The eyes of a blue dog. Blue dog eyes. And in the doors of gagotali, the sevaaki, gathered to look at the crazy.

She was silent, and I sat down, swaying on a chair. "Every morning," I said, "I'm trying to remember the phrase, for which you should find you. In a dream it seems to me that I learned her well, but waking up, I can't remember any words. " - "But you yourself came up with them!" - "Yes. They came to mind because you have ash eye. But during the day I can't remember even your face. " She graduated in despair to fingers: "Ah, if we knew at least the name of my city!"

Bitter folds lay in the corners of her lips. "I want to touch you," I said. She threw out his eyes, I fought the flame tongues in her pupils. "You never said this," she noticed. "Now I say." She lowered his eyes and asked a cigarette. "Why," she repeated, "I don't remember the name of my city in any way?" "And I am our cherished words," I said. She smiled sadly: "This room will dream of me just like you." I rose and headed for the lamp, and she retreated back in the frightened, fearing that I would accidentally intercede for an invisible trait running between us. Taking outstretched cigarette, she leaned towards the light of the lamp. "But in some city of the world, all the walls are written by the words" Blue Dog's eyes, "I said. "If I remember these words, I'll go in the morning to look for you throughout the light." Her face covered with a reddish light of a cigarette, she deeply dragged into and, twisting the cigarette in thin fingers said: "Thank God. I seem to begin to warm up, "and said Naraspov, as if repeating the writing pen:" I ... I start ... - she shared with his fingers, as if coarsened in the tube an invisible piece of paper as I read the words written on it, to warm ... "- the paper ended and fell to the floor - wrinkled, tiny, turning into dust ash. "It's good," I said. "I am always scared when you are freezing."

So we meet with her, for several years now. Sometimes at that moment when we find each other in the labyrinth of dreams, someone there, outside, drops to the floor with a spoon, and we wake up. Little, we got torture with the sad truth - our friendship is depending on very prosaic things. Some spoon at dawn can put an end to our short meeting.

She stands behind the lamp and looks at me. It looks just like on the first night when I found myself among the dream in a strange room with a lamp and a mirror and saw a girl with ash eye. I asked: "Who are you?" And she said: "I do not remember ..." - "But we seem to have already met?" - "May be. You could dream of me, in this room ".-" For sure! - I said. "I saw you in a dream." "How fun," she smiled. - So, we meet in dreams? "

She pulled out, focusing on a cigarette light. And again it seemed to me that it was from copper, but not cold and solid, but from warm and militant. "I want to touch you," I repeated. "You will destroy everything," she was frightened. "Touch will wake us up, and we will no longer meet." "" It is unlikely, "I said. "We only need to put your head on the pillow, and we will see you again." I extended my hand, but she did not move. "You will destroy everything ..." she whispered. "If you cross the line and go beyond the lamp, we wake up abandoned in different parts of the world. "-" And yet, "I insisted. But she only lowered the eyelashes: "These meetings are our last chance. You do not remember anything next morning. " And I retreated. And she put her hands on the lamp and complained: "I can never fall asleep after our meetings. I wake up among the night and I can no longer close the eye - the pillow burns the face, and I'm all the brave: "The eyes of a blue dog. Blue dog eyes.

"Soon dawn, I noticed. "The last time I woke up at two o'clock, and since then a lot of time has passed." I went to the door and took the handle. "Careful," she warned. - heavy dreams live outside the door. " - "How do you know?" - "Most recently I went there and hardly returned back. And waking up, noticed that I was lying on my heart. " "But I still apertured the door." The sash was filed, and the light breeze brought outside the smell of fertile land and cultivated arable land. I turned my head to her and said: "There is no corridor. I feel the smell of field. " "" There, behind the door, "she said," a woman sleeps, who sees the field in a dream. She always dreamed of living in the village, but never got out of the city. " Behind the door light, and people have already started waking up everywhere. "I'm probably waiting for breakfast," I said.

The wind from the field became weaker, and then verse. Instead, he had a smooth breath of sleeping, which just turned over in bed on the other side. Verse the breeze, and smells died with him.

"Tomorrow we will certainly recognize each other," I said. - I will look for a woman who writes on the walls: "Blue Dog's eyes." She smiled sadly and put his hands on the cooling cap of the lamp: "You don't remember anything." Her sad silhouette has already begun to melting in the continuity. "You are an amazing person," she said. "You never remember your dreams."
From the site

From literary informbureuro

I think many of those present did not have acquainted with a tearful "letter." Where the poor author - for life - even a chocolate ice cream was not given to enjoy, and then there was no longer anything left: insidious death, other circumstances not yet announced in the "letter"

A letter of pro, including the ice cream in a constant form walked along the runet of ten years (10 years ...). It was sent to me good people in corporate mailing in several large companies, where I worked before departure from Russia, and where it just met me! .. In Russian.

One cm - with a dozen of the recesses of this "Letters" of the Great Novelist.

Now the "end of the world" is approaching. Runet shook, preparation began " how to live the remaining life so that it does not painfully hurt"12/21/2012. Apologies for a possible mistake in the date.

Slightly yellowed in the virtual forgotten "Letter" as before the living great writer again gained relevance. Dust fouled, began to send again. In RuNet, the stump is clear.

So, my friends.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez, to whom this touching pathos creation is attributed, has nothing to do with him at all. Moreover, this is not a letter at all. BUT - poem. "La Marioneta". Written by little-known mexican wisdom named Johnny Welch (Johnny Welch) for his wandering puppet show "Mofles" ("Zhevny", "Mumen" - a literal translation for me to choose, unfortunately).

The prehistory of this "hoax" with the letter of the alleged Marquez is such.

In the summer of 1999, the Nobel laureate in literature was diamonded by leukemia. Crawled relevant rumors.

May 29, 2000 in the Peruvian (!!!) daily newspaper La Republica appeared poem "La Marioneta". The author is still not announced reasons - Gabriel Garcia Marquez was. It was also reported that a deadly sick writer sends it to his friends in private correspondence. As his poetic "spiritual will", as if.

The next day, on May 30, 2000, the entire newspaper Latin American world of conscientiously "overpowering" the sore, sad news. Mexican La Cronica. He came out with Hadline "Gabriel Garcia Marquez sings the life of the song", On the whole cover laying a photo of a writer - with the text of the poem on top of it ... The poem was declamored on the air of many radio stations, the text spread over the Internet.

The poem itself is terribly sentimentally and flooded with literary clichés, which would be strange to expect from the writer of this level. However, "bought" - not only the editors of the leading Hispanic daily and other media, but even friends of Gabriel Garcia Marquez ...

However, it turned out very quickly that Marquez had nothing to do with this poem. He himself never did any public statements about, but already June 1, 2000 Los Angeles Times has published an article "Farewell Poem 'Fools Readers" - "Farewell poem ditch readers."

***
And in RuNet - everything, as always: " And the men did not know"...

Last thing Letter Gabriel Garcia Marquez
"If for one moment God forgot that I was just a rag puppet, and I would give me a piece of life, I would probably say everything that I think, but I would definitely think that I say.
I would appreciate things, not for how much they stand, but for how much they mean.
I would sleep less, I would have dreamed more, realizing that every minute, when we close your eyes, we lose sixty seconds of light.
I would go, until everyone else stand, did not sleep while others sleep.
I would listen when others say, and no matter how I enjoyed the wonderful taste of chocolate ice cream.
If God gave me another moment of life, I would dress more modest, I would have been lying on the sun, putting the warm rays not only my body, but also a soul.
The Lord, if I had a heart, I would write all my hatred on ice and waited until the sun comes out.
I would draw a sleep / dream Van Gogh on the stars poem Benedetti, and the song Serrat would become a serenade that I would give the moon.
I would have watered roses tears to feel pain their spikes and a scarlet kiss of their petals. ..
The Lord, if I had still a piece of life, I would not have spent a single day without saying people I love that I love them.
I would convince every man's dear to me in my love and would live in love with love.
I would explain those who are mistaken, believing that they stop falling in love when aging, not understanding that they agreed when they stop falling in love!
I would give your kid, but allowed him to learn how to fly.
Starikov I would convince the fact that death comes not with old age, but with oblivion.
I learned so much with you, people, I realized that the whole world wants to live in the mountains, not realizing that real happiness is how we rising in the mountain.
I realized that from the moment that for the first time a newborn baby will burn his father's finger in his little cam, he will never let him go back it.
I realized that one person had the right to look at the other from the high only when he helps him climb.
There are so many things that I could still learn from you, people, but, at the very matter, they are unlikely to use, because when I put on this suitcase, I, unfortunately, will be dead.
Always say what you feel, and do what you think.
If I knew that today I last see you sleeping, I would firmly hugged you and prayed to God that he would make me your guardian angel.
If I knew that I see today, as you leave the doors, I would hugging you would kiss you and call you again to give you more.
If I knew that I hear your voice for the last time, I would write to the film all you say to listen to it also, endlessly.
If I knew that it was the last minutes, when I see you, I would say: I love you and did not intend, the fool that you knew it.
There is always tomorrow, and life provides us with another opportunity to fix everything, but if I am mistaken and today it's all that we have left, I would like to tell you how much I love you, and I will never forget you.
Neither the young man nor the old man can be sure that tomorrow will come for him.
Today, maybe the last time you see those who love.
Therefore, do not wait for something, do it today, because if tomorrow never comes, you will regret that when you have no time for one smile, one hug, one kisses, and when you were too busy to Perform the last desire.
Support people close to you, whispering them in your ear, how do you need them, love them and contact them carefully, find time to say: "I'm sorry," "Forgive me", "please thank you" and all those words Love you know.
No one will remember you for your thoughts.
Asking the Lord wisdom and strength to talk about what you feel.
Show your friends as they are important to you.
If you do not tell this today, tomorrow will be the same as yesterday. And if you don't do this ever, nothing will matter.
Imagine your dreams.
This moment came. "

UPD 2:

The Puppet.
If for a Moment God Would Forget That I am A Rag Doll and Give Me A SCRAP of Life, Possibly i Would Not Say Everything That I Think, But I Would Definitely Think Everything That I Say.
I Would Value Things Not For How Much The Are Worth But Rather for What They Mean.
I Would Sleep Little, Dream More. I know for Each Minute That We Close Our Eyes We Lose Sixty Seconds of Light.
I Would Walk WHEN THE OTHERS LOITER; I Would Awaken WHEN THE OTHERS SLEEP.
I Would Listen WHEN THE OTHERS SPEAK, AND HOW I WOULD ENJOY A GOOD CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM.
If God Would Bestow on ME A SCRAP OF LIFE, I WOULD DRESS SIMPLY, I WOULD THROW MYSELF FLAT Under the Sun, Exposing Not Only My Body But Also My Soul.
My God, If I Had a Heart, I Would Write My Hatred on Ice and Wait for the Sun to Come Out. With a Dream of Van Gogh I Would Paint on the Stars A Song by Benedetti, and a song by Serrat Would be My Serenade to the Moon.
With My Tears I Would Would Would Would, to Feel The Pain of their Thorns and the Incarnated Kiss of their Petals ... My God, If I Only Had A SCRAP OF LIFE ...
I Wouldn't Let A Single Day Go By Worthout Saying to People I Love, That I Love Them.
I Would Convince Each Woman Or Man That They Are My Favourites and I Would Live in Love with love.
I Would Prove to the Men How Mistaken They Are in Thinking That They No Longer Fall in Love When The Grow Old - Not Knowing That The Grow Old WHEN THEY STOP FALLING IN LOVE. To a child i Would Give Wings, But i Would Let Him Learn How to Fly by Himself. To the Old I Would Teach That Death Comes Not With Old Age But With Forgetting. I Have Learned So Much From You Men ....
I Have Learned Than Everybody Wants To Live At The Top of the Mountain Wanthout Realizing That True Happiness Lies In The Way We Climb The Slope.
I Have Learned That When A Newborn First Squeezes His Father's Finger in His Tiny Fist, He Has Caught Him Forever.
I Have Learned That A Man Only Has The Right to Look Down On Another Man When IS to Help Him to Stand Up. I Have Learned So Many Things From It Will Be No Use Because When They Put Me Inside That Suitcase, Unfortunately I Will Be Dying.
Translation from Spanish to English - Matthew Taylor and Rosa Alelis Taylor (Matthew Taylor, Rosa Aelis Taylor)