Hears Rain
Leticia de Oyuela as who hears rain Lety! As strange those evenings where we changed the life to the rededor of your talk! Who would say that that girl’s braided hair, which he learned to read at age four and by nine because he knew almost all the classics, would have a magic without equal for storytelling, then realizes in texts. Listen to you was an extension of time which was refusing to go as one who hears rain, neither attentive nor distracted, mild steps, drizzle, water that it is air, air that is time, the day just not go. Every afternoon he left the Sun between the stacks of your library and cigar thread us tied to Windows that has the sea. With your passion for life you did as a lamp do they catch fire in us ideas, goals, dreams. Renowned intellectual, writer and Honduran historian, 25 published books, over two hundred newspaper articles, essays, a recognized work as Professor, more contribution to intellectual and cultural initiatives.
Historical studies King Juan Carlos I award, which grants the Embassy of Spain in Honduras, as well as a doctorate granted by his alma mater, Autonoma de Honduras, us shaking and broken structures! Amiga years pass and returning the moments! Today you’d be celebrating your birthday number 74. And we saw you laughing out loud, you saw spun stories with literary resources, we saw elegant Lady and spina telling truths that others they squirm. We saw you cry and be wing that crossed boundaries. You saw beloving grandmother and selfless wife, nagging mother, and Hummingbird heart. You convocabas and our steps swept the streets they did because you hear, it was going to another path, you believe Chinese ink, skipjack, and a lump of coal. To hear you they bursting firecrackers and we discovered silhouettes in the cracks of any door.
You convocabas and we desdibujabamos brushes and crayons, and oil it We re-enact in bridge and sword. I am again writing and deposit a rose and a tree of lemon in your grave and all these emotions that I have been sown. Again I am grateful to life and poet Justo Perez for making us accomplices in files, investigations of 1830. When you heard you hear them in another time it is right now, inventor of places without weight hears the footsteps of time nor site, Hey rain running down the terrace, is already more night in the Grove, in the foliage has nested Ray, vague garden adrift comes, your shadow covers this page. ! Today August 20 happy birthday, dear unforgettable friend!
