lunes, 19 de marzo de 2012

poema

El viento soplaba lentamente
en la oscura y fria montaña
el viejo subia la montaña
y de las mas profunda roca
la espada que el mago le dio

martes, 8 de noviembre de 2011

how the pony won the race? part 4

the pony answered him " I was crying... becouse my owner didn"t .... love me as I love him because I am not so fast as others pony, can you help me?
the hare replied "well, I can train you to be faster and to show to that monkey that you are fast with a race"
The pony,with hopes, started to train day and night without stopping

domingo, 18 de septiembre de 2011

poema

los griterios, los ruidos de los lapices , la mirada al reloj y de pronto el sonido de la lñibertad, el timbre