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Continuing our effort to continue publishing some of the emails that I shared with good friends around the world, now I remember that feeling came to me while reading a poem the great Amado Nervo (Mexico, 1870-1919).
Continuing our effort to continue publishing some of the emails that I shared with good friends around the world, now I remember that feeling came to me while reading a poem the great Amado Nervo (Mexico, 1870-1919).
I left my old story impregnated winged emotions, my most sensible words.
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Amigos (as):
How can anyone feel the same as if I lived ninety years ago? And, is it not extraordinary and miraculous things, thinking that people like Moses, Jacob, Abraham, Noah, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, etc. O, the great prophets who lived on this continent as Nephi, Alma, King Benjamin, Helaman, Mormon, Moroni, etc. I can transmit not only knowledge, but what they felt and thought as if I talk about themselves today. What kind of communication so deep, remote and beautiful is this? The feel something I did not expect, did not plan, I never imagined and that is so miraculous to me. I try to make my imagination to see these fine achieve spiritual ties that surround us, like a kind of telephone network or the spectrum of electromagnetic waves that travel through space without any material to stop them, so imagine the communication network of skies, just perfect, infallible and that does not come with a tax to pay or anything that conditional obligation sublime penitent to receive signal. Is the network of his Spirit, as a gentle whisper to the very soul that quivers in calmness and peace that clings like a seal in the center of heart and never erased.
How can anyone feel the same as if I lived ninety years ago? And, is it not extraordinary and miraculous things, thinking that people like Moses, Jacob, Abraham, Noah, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, etc. O, the great prophets who lived on this continent as Nephi, Alma, King Benjamin, Helaman, Mormon, Moroni, etc. I can transmit not only knowledge, but what they felt and thought as if I talk about themselves today. What kind of communication so deep, remote and beautiful is this? The feel something I did not expect, did not plan, I never imagined and that is so miraculous to me. I try to make my imagination to see these fine achieve spiritual ties that surround us, like a kind of telephone network or the spectrum of electromagnetic waves that travel through space without any material to stop them, so imagine the communication network of skies, just perfect, infallible and that does not come with a tax to pay or anything that conditional obligation sublime penitent to receive signal. Is the network of his Spirit, as a gentle whisper to the very soul that quivers in calmness and peace that clings like a seal in the center of heart and never erased.
imagine I feel the amount of things you can convey that spirit, the same place to sprout sentiments expressed in simplicity and depth testimonies of prophets who lie sleeping in their graves for men. They are dead, but still conveying the depth at which they arrived. I wonder why!
This is a beautiful poem that I liked think, thanks to a night that I was looking for the perfect network to connect with my God and He led me to this art and faith chapel . Amado Nervo
I felt the same, and is no longer, but his soul lives in his recitation. And I'm here to read. Place your ear
innocent heart and character of humility, on the altar of sacrifice to make this poem, a speech for our veterans more spiritual battles.
"there is a human pain than my pain
no eyes and cry, and no soul frets
without me fret and cry;
and my heart is true lamp of all vigils,
O Christ!
"I seek in vain in the deep recesses of my being
to find some hate: no one can hurt me and
but pity and love. All are me, I'm all
O Christ!
"What evils or goods imported! For me they are all real.
The rose has no thorns, for me only gives roses.
"Rose passion? Who cares? Blue roses essentially
purple as the blood shed by us,
O Christ! "
no eyes and cry, and no soul frets
without me fret and cry;
and my heart is true lamp of all vigils,
O Christ!
"I seek in vain in the deep recesses of my being
to find some hate: no one can hurt me and
but pity and love. All are me, I'm all
O Christ!
"What evils or goods imported! For me they are all real.
The rose has no thorns, for me only gives roses.
"Rose passion? Who cares? Blue roses essentially
purple as the blood shed by us,
O Christ! "
August 17, 2009
sender Local Time: 16:00
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