Cordoba is heating my head.
The f*** of the heat.
Flags&shoutings in the north.
Feel strange/weird.
Feel like no-man land.
Am happy but not free yet.
Convincing about hope to non-believers.
Non-believers that get benefits from churchs and mosses. It does not account.
Sun is above.
Freelance Whales – Broken Horse
And I am a broken horse in the South-land.
Without you in the hotest night.
In the hot of the night.
Without you.
Hot.
F***ing hot.
Neighbours making noise at night, some sex or whatever.
Crisis time.
Ireland far but in our heart.
I loved you with my guitar on.
I listen some of compatriots shouting love songs.
But they do not how to love. Poor them. Poor me. Poor us.
Painful night. Painful moon.
Stupid you, innocent me.
Time is over, for my green.
—
Bakarrik etzanda, sabaira begira.
Denboraren orratzen tak tak-a.
Agian bihar esnatuko dena ez da hau idazten duena izanen.
Agian esnatu baino ohean disolbatuko naiz.
Zaldi apurtu bat bezala, trostan Cordobako zerura igotzen, gau ilunean, gau epelean, inork ulertu gabe, paretetako pintada inozo bezain arriskutsuak eta banderak mikaztutako gaua.
Gorroto ditut pertsonei jartzen zaizkien koherentzia azterketak. Dena inkoherentzia denean.
Disolbatzen ari naiz eta gora eta gora egiten dut, igotzen ari naiz, zeru mozarabean, ilargira, zaldi apurtu baten moduan.
Hura jaso eta argia itzaltzeko: Goodnite al-andalus.
Ftf.
fastfatum