Ocaso
Hay almas que se regocijan contemplando cielos muy azules y cercanos, donde la danza de loas aves y los árboles se aprecian claramente. Al caer la tarde en uno de esos cielos, queda la brillantez nostálgica de un día que solo será replicado en el futuro, atravesado por algunas nubes, blancas o grises. Pero esta tarde que cae, anuncia la noche.
[Calle Bolívar de Buenos Aires, con su cielo azul atravesado por nubes]****[Bolívar Street in Buenos Aires, with its blue sky crossed by clouds]
Escoltado por buenos y malos augurios, se asoma la noche, donde se entorpece la vista de lo pronto, pero donde se intuye el panorama de lo infinito. En el seno del abismo, crecen las imágenes de personajes fantásticos, felizmente arropados por la fascinación de divinidades míticas, marinas y celestes, cultivándose en los laberintos de nuestras mentes. Noche tras noche, día tras día.
[La misma calle, unos pasos después, en el ocaso]****[Sunset. The same street, a few steps further on]
Expira la imaginación del drama y la comedia, tragedias en vigilia que se van a transgredir en la profundidad de la madrugada, revolcándose en escenas informes e insolentes producto del caos del inconsciente, hasta abrir de nuevo los ojos, y hacer frente a la realidad de un nuevo día.
English version:
There are souls that rejoice contemplating very blue, nearby skies, where the dance of birds and trees can be clearly seen. As evening falls on one of those skies, there remains the nostalgic brilliance of a day that will only be replicated in the future, crossed by a few clouds, white or gray. But this falling evening heralds the night.
Escorted by good and bad omens, night appears, where the view of what is close is obscured, but where the panorama of the infinite is glimpsed. In the heart of the abyss, images of fantastical characters grow, happily enveloped by the fascination of mythical deities, marine and celestial, cultivated in the labyrinths of our minds. Night after night, day after day.
The imagination of drama and comedy expires, tragedies in vigil that will be transgressed in the depths of the early morning, wallowing in formless and insolent scenes, the product of the chaos of the unconscious, until one opens one's eyes again, and faces the reality of a new day.
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STOPThanks, so much @hivebuzz !
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Nice street shots to see @emiliohilarraza7!... 😀📷👍
!discovery shots
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