"This huge, twisted trunk is the highest of all the vallenwoods in the Valley". Within it stories are told, within it tales are lived, he is witness of lots of adventures, because within it lives the magic ...

This is a magical world ...
where castles rises above clouds seas ...
and dreams walk calmly down the street ...
where every one can be that heroe who dreamed of one day ...
and
if they turn back, they see their wishes fulfilled ...
You´ve got a big heart, keep it filled with
happiness, Lord of the Shadows, so you can live more an live forever inside a
heart, inside yours, inside mine...


Every now and then we come across bands who find inspiration for their music in Dragonlance, most often from Raistlin who is unquestionably the saga's favourite character.

DRAGONLANCE MOVIE OFFICIAL WEBSITE

sábado, 14 de mayo de 2011

Ella/She.

Tiene un barco, un barco de vela. De esos pequeños, con un solo mástil. La mayor -y única- ondea mientras los cabrestantes golpean contra la jarcia y ésta contra el brillante metal del palo mayor. 


Ella está de pie, en la proa. Mirando al horizonte. Dejando que la blanca espuma lama las puntas de sus pies al saltar su pequeño barco de vela sobre las olas. 


Tiene un collar, hecho de madera y coral, que ella misma se ha confeccionado, con sus propias manos, como debe ser. Tiene unos pendientes, grabados en una cáscara de coco. 


Sus uñas lucen un verde brillante y en su pecho brillan notas musicales, candente reflejo de la música clásica que se oye desde su camarote. 


Allí, en las paredes, lucen fotografías, una suerte de fotogramas, agrupados en marcos de a cuatro. Sobre la pequeña mesilla del único camarote hay un reloj. Labrado en malaquita, repujado en plata, el reloj marca las doce. Es la hora.


Ella ha viajado mucho. Ha visto mucho. Ha vivido mucho. Ha sufrido, amado, odiado, reído, gritado y bailado. Simplemente, ella ha sido. 


Y ahora va. No sabe hacia donde va ¿y quién sí? no sabe por qué y a veces tampoco sabe cómo. Pero va. Se dirige a un destino concreto que marcarán sus propios pies. Aunque ha habido momentos de incertidumbre, sabe que seguirá navegando. Navegará, superará. Llegará. Siempre con la cabeza alzada, mirando hacia delante. Porque ella es así, es fuerte.


Sus ojos, enmarcados en tonos verdes primavera, refulgen de varios colores, castaños, verdes... siempre a juego. Su perfume almizclado se desprende de su cabello y queda atrás, sobre la espuma del mar. 


Sus labios, rojos con cierto aire retro misterioso, sonríen pensando en no pensar, en no preguntarse por el futuro. Lo que llegue, llegará. Y ella sólo tiene que hacer una cosa: saltar las olas y navegar. 


Creo que no es necesario decir
A quien está dedicado.
Resulta fácil de adivinar o^^o


Y eso por si aún no se sabía... :D 


Es un regalo, disfrútalo o^^o


o^^o saludos o^^o


She has a boat, a sailboat. One of those little ones, with only a single mast. The mainsail -and single- is waving while the capstan hit against de rigging and this one against de bright metal of the mainmast. 


She´s on her feet, on the prow. Looking at the horizon. Letting the white sea licking her toes when her little sailboat jumps over the waves. 


She has a necklace, wood and coral made, made by herself, as it should be. She has earrings, carved into a coconut rind. 


Her nails shine in a bright green. On her chest glow musical notes, white hot reflection from the classical music which is heard aut of her cabin. 


There, on the walls, photographs shine, most of some photograms, grouped in frames of four. Over the little timetable in the only cabin there´s a clock. Malachite carved, embossed silver, the clock strikes midnight. It's time. 


She has travelled a lot. She has seen a lot. She has lived a lot. She has suffered, loved, hated, laughed, shouted and danced. She has, simply, been. 


Now she goes. She don´t know where se goes ¿and who does? She doesn´t know why, she doesn´t even know how most of the times. But she goes. She heads on a particular destiny marked with her own feet. Thought there had been uncertainty moments, she knows she´ll keep sailing. She will sail. She will overcome. She will reach. Always with her head up, looking forward. Because she´s like that. She´s strong.


Her eyes, framed in spring green tones, glow in several colours, brown, green... always at stake. Her musky perfume falls from her hair and stays back, over the sea foam.


Her lips, red with a slightly kind of retro and mystery, smile thinking about not thinking, about not wondering about future. What comes, will come. And she has just to do one thing: jump over the waves and sail. 


I think that itñs not necessary to say
who´s this dedicated to;
it´s easy to guess o^^o.


And that´s just in case it wasn´t obvious jet, its a Spanish words game... :D


This is a present; enjoy it o^^o


o^^o regards o^^o