Corrugated Fence Panels

Sawdust Sawing

Yeah, yeah. I have a weakness for literature (and culture) in Colombia:)

Sawdust!

Aserrán!

The woodsmen of San Juan, calling
cheese, ask for bread,
the alfandoque
Roque, Rique
those weakling

Those of Triqui
Triqui, tran!

and knees hard and firm from Grandma,
swings with rhythmic movement and both the child
are agitated and trembling;
Grandma smiles with maternal affection
more crosses your mind as a fear so strange
that in the future, anxiety and disappointment
grandson ignored day saved.

The timbers of San Juan
call cheese, ask for bread.
Triqui, Triqui
Triqui, tran! These

deep wrinkles
remember a story of long and silent suffering and anguish
her hair white as snow, are. From a big pain
stamp marking the forehead withered
and his dim eyes are clouded mirrors
the years, and has time, reflected
forms of things and beings that will never return. The

Roque, alfandoque
Triqui, Triqui Triqui tran! Tomorrow when sleeping

Crone, motionless and mute,
live far from the world under the dark earth,
where others, in the shadows are long, the grandson
memory, with serious are
enclosing all sad poem of childhood
remote crossing the shadows of time and distance,
of that beloved voice notes vibrate!

Los de Rique, Triqui
weakling, Triqui Triqui tran!

And in both knees
tired Grandma's rhythmic motion swings
child and both are shocked and trembling,
Grandma smiles with maternal affection
more crosses your mind as a fear so strange
in the future, anxiety and disappointment
grandson ignored day saved. Sawdust

!
Aserrán!
The woodsmen of San Juan
call cheese, ask for bread, the Roque

alfandoque
those weakling
Rique
Triqui Triqui Triqui tran!
Triqui Triqui Triqui tran! Visit

www.EducandoenFamilia.com