Art Exhibition in Vinaros, ” Women Gift life , women is a gift from the life”

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This last moth i have been part of a beautyfull exhibition were we was 9 womens talking around our private view about women live in this area of mother land 🙂
i,m really happy and proud about this exhibition, all womens we are so diferent beautyfull diferent views about life and respect.
i specilly recite a nice poem from a women poetry from this area, that talk about all what has been past througth to our history like a womens.
i like to let you read in our original lenguaje 🙂 a little strophe that have a lot of meaning for me.

MARIA A LA TARDOR,

La història t’ha penjat
del coll la identitat
que més li convenia,
però hui te n’adones,
i amb serenor pregones
la teua regel.lia.
hui t’has alçat del llit
amb un nou esperit
d’indòmita amazona,
i alces la teua veu
reivindicant el teu dret a ser tu i ser dona.
…i et batega en les venes
un paradís d’arenes
i d’escumes nacrades,
i sote les parpelles bressoles meravelles
que d’inspiren les fades.
Ét batega en les venes
una albor d’assutzenes
que dispersa al teu pit
l’entenebrida boira,
i tanca en la memòria
l’angúnia i el neguit.
et batega en les venes
un cavall sense regnes
de lliure fantasia
que altri mai no ha sotmés
i gira del revés
la teua lletania:
Salve, nova maria,
que llostreja un nou dia
foragitant la nit,
on tu vals el que vals,
perquè no hi ha destrals
que escapcen l’esperit.

Lola González Montolio

MARIA IN THE FALL

The story has hanged you
From the neck the identity
What more suited him,
But today you realize,
And with serenity pleasurable
Your regel.lia.
Today you got up from the bed
With a new spirit
Of indomita amazona,
And you raise your voice
Claiming your right to be you and being a woman.
… and beat you in the veins
A paradise of sand
And peeled foams,
And put on the eyelids wonderful cribs
Which inspire the fairies.
I’m dying in the veins
A threshold of niches
That scatters in your chest
The fog enthusiast,
And closes in memory
The anguish and the neglect.
Beat you in the veins
A horse without realms
Of free fantasy
What else has never been done?
And rotate the reverse
Your litany:
Salve, maria nova,
That paints a new day
Foraging the night,
Where you worship what you worship,
Because there are no axes
That the spirit escapes.

Lola González Montolio

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