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The Indian



You can see in the eyes of migrant
Nostalgia producing children of their land,
More when it comes back looking for
The memory of a great past
Full of light and wonder created,
Find a being, himself, unknown,
And feel the yearning for the land
In which, being the outsider,
There was to host at home,
ACULLICO for not being the "Indian."


Almería, April 2009
José María Benito

Texto agregado el 29-04-2009, y leído por 127 visitantes. (0 votos)


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