Una mágica atmósfera se produce en esta noche de luna.
Han abierto sus brotes las plantas y las mariposas deambulan entre la luz.
Es una noche de mucha paz y contemplación
The house of my childhood had no mirrors,
the muddy roadside,
leaning on his years
had no windows,
anything that would reflect the sun.
Our house was a poor little house;
from time to time, the storms of my childhood
and the north wind,
shook our weak hut
and caused great fear,
the wind wanted to uproot the foundations invisible
and thin, moist walls
strongly vibrated
See more information about Mario Humberto monasterio Calderón
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