"Though my eyes can not see that pure flash
that dazzled me in my youth;
but nothing can return
time of splendor in the grass
of glory in the flowers,
should not grieve.
Because beauty always remains in the memory. "
(William Wordsworth)
Splendor in the Grass, the film was inspired by Wordsworth's poem. I remember seeing many years ago and I imagine that even I let out a tear. But I do not remember the argument. The poem, by contrast, runs up to me down in many circumstances. When autumn arrives. When a loved one dies. At the end of a relationship important. A job. But when a friend, an ex-boyfriend or "rubbing" is a promotion, get married, have a son or a daughter, but infinitely glad you think in those days of happiness is only a memory.
Here let me an explanation, and that the world of journalism, as in the comic, it is now extremely difficult to stay longer than three years in a row in a media-without counting the expiry jobs in legislature. One - sound mind, is not able to follow three different editorial in the same medium, but if three media with different editorial lines. Or if you run out to look for Red Eagle toil in other series. Stall unless you are by nature and upbringing.
This poem I chew on occasion, as to remember my loved ones who have died. My Ana Sancho and his "! Pokes !"... Always smiling and happy in spite of his poor health. Joking at all times. Always in love with life and a handsome blue-eyed film. I have more than 30 messages on the answering his phone last month of his life in September and I "Jart" to mourn remembering. And a candle - the kind that go with battery - for 24 hours to fight those dark shadows that sometimes cloud the purpose memory therapeutic. The duel has to end now, the fatter the tears and nightmares for the absence, to make way for the beauty that remains in memory.
stunned the other day I left the presentation prod. When good José Ramón Marcuello chuflaina played with an "Polished magallonera" recalling that two months ago that Jose Antonio Labordeta had died, I fell into how Grandpa would suit him to lie like José Angel Biel, which was of the opinion I had. I did not accept any invitation for a drink, given the mosqueo, but if I walked around with Concha Cortes and her husband, Quique Echegoyen. It's nice to be reunited with good friends.
Juan Bolea presented his book "Black Orchid" and returned during the presentation for years and years of wine and roses. My 22 years and the friendship that lasts in time, we were always close friends and accomplices in a thousand and one nights shared with Luis Alegre, with ... many people we had in common the Nicolasa, Encarna The Puppet Mihi and elsewhere. I kissed her parents, uncle Juan Bolea, who was the first president of the Autonomy, and Charo, my favorite Cadiz. The wife of John, Bethlehem, and the triplets. I remembered many and so many funny moments, cute, happy ... I spent a while confidences with Mari Cruz Soriano (Belloch always mosque because we let it out). And Paris, we'll always have Paris on the day before winning the Expo. No one can ever take away the laughter with Cross and Teresa Fernandez de la Vega, the change in the elevator Monstse Carmen Morera (RNE), Javier Ferrer (COPE) and servant to be on time to candidacy. And suddenly Key memory I have Angel Orensanz study has in Paris, Le Marais. We will have to go there soon.
Beauty always exists in memory.
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