There was a poetic group in the club last Sunday. It reminds me my childhood when my mother and I used to go downtown and there was an organ grinder and his parrot. But this time there is no parrot but a puppet. The Muppet chose a piece of paper and I read the poem while a guy plays an accordion. I read the poem and people got around to listen to the poem. The poem is The Guests by the Brazilian poet Mário Quintana. I took only one picture because I was so delighted that I forgot to take much more.
The guests by Mário Quintana
This life is a strange inn
From where we almost always go away wildly
Because our suitcases are never packed
And our bill is never paid on time...
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Autunm is on the corner and it is a bit less hot here. I enjoy taking pictures of the sky, so I hope you like the pictures. It reminds me the Cold Play song "the sky full of stars", but in this case it is full of clouds! I have been busy studying, but always thinking of posting. Cheers!