txakurgorri

I know I promised a translation of yesterday's poem, but I got my new laptop today, so.... yeah.

Work sucked. Commuting sucks.

I wish to be more creative. Yesterday's poem was my first ever one, and the fact that I wrote in spanish, a language I speak very well, yet have not written in for a number of years, is kind of weird. So, that is a good start.

Yet, I feel I have to fill something missing in my life. I am about to start a new part of my life, and I am lost, very lost.

So, what should I concentrate on, buying a bass guitar or a good camera?

I should just throw myself into one or the other to get through some tough times ahead. What are your thoughts?

UPDATE:

Here i s the translation of the poem from 6/22. Damn, Catie, you are pushy.

I am not a poet. The wind, with its song, its whistle makes notes that happen through my heart. The sun their rays that shine in the eyes of the world, they are poets. The trees, the grass, the flowers are poets of colors. But I am not a poet.

The Night of where one hangs the shining Moon and stars. In its brightness and its dark, the poetry lives there. In the love between two lovers, the poetry is born there. But I am not poet.

I am not poet, but if I am the instrument of the poetry, the word, music. Written or spoken. The poetry happens through my soul. And in her it remains.

T.G.