...A Pocas Palabras

Cuando la gente busca metáforas para representar un trabajo arduo, incesante y no reconocido, llega con frecuencia a la imagen de la hormiga; que nunca descansa, que siempre trabaja cada instante de su vida, que es solo una pequeña invisible en el mundo de los grandes y que es a su vez un millar de ellas, pequeñas, insignificantes, incansables. Su labor nos recuerda al todo y a la nada. Poco saben. No creen más que en la jornada, voluntarias del cansancio, víctimas creadoras, incomprendidas, indispensables, utilizadas. La hormiga es siempre la misma, en todas sus generaciones.     A veces quisiera ser como ellas y compartir su valor. El que no se ve a sí mismo, siempre quiere ser otro. © 2015 Grecia Albornoz The ant     When people search for metaphors to represent arduous, unceasing, and unrecognized work, the image of the ant often reaches their minds. Unresting, working every instant of its life, it is just one small invisible ...

Dear 14-year-old me, Hello darling, how long will it take you to understand and accept that this letter is written from a 28-year-old you? I just turned 28 last Tuesday or I should say you just turned 28 last Tuesday. Throughout the years I have been collecting a series of experiences that I think I can share with you right now through this letter. However, our journey is still not over, don’t you ever think that! I know what you think about the world, I know you convictions. You are strong; stronger than many kids your age, you should know that. You are only starting to discover the world and people around you, as if you were opening your eyes for the very first time. You are lucky, very lucky! You should be a little happier for that reason. And you are a dreamer, you cannot fool me; I know you very well! Isn’t life just a little better in your head? But darling, that is not life. God has given you a broad imagination, use it! It is WON-DER-FUL! You know something? You shoul...

Y seremos viejos, Y sufriremos (de) algo, Y los afanes de la juventud  Nos servirán de nada, Y nos atormentar á n nuestras tristezas, Y querremos morir… Cuando seamos viejos, Los 20 se ahogar á n, Y sus travesuras, Y no te acordarás de mi, Y no me acordaré de ti. © 2015 Grecia Albornoz And we will be old, And we will suffer (from) something, And the struggles of our youth Will be meaningless, And our sadness will torment us, And we will want to die... When we are old, Our 20s will drown,  And its naughtiness, And you will not remember me, And I will not remember you. © 2015 Grecia Albornoz

El final del camino es mas nuevo que viejo… Más cerca del abismo que del presente. Mañana... Me pregunto si he de atravesarlo después de todo, sola O cuánto durará la compañía Como sea Mañana, Será. © 2015 Grecia Albornoz The end of the road is newer than old, Closer to the abyss than to the present It is Tomorrow... Wonder if I'll walk through tomorrow alone after all Or how long will the company last. However tomorrow'd be It'd be. © 2015 Grecia Albornoz