HAPPY NEW YEAR

December 31, 2008
Category: Sacramento Real Estate , Then and Now

Around a tavern table, a winter night, gleefully chatting six gay Bohemians.
The echoes of their laughter escaped and that neighborhood still going to interrupt the imposing
and silence.

The fragrant smoke cigarettes rose in spirals to the sky, symbolizing nothing resolved,
life of dreams.

But on every lip was laughter, inspiration in all brains, and spread over the table, drinks
plethoric rum, whiskey or absinthe.

It was curious that set, this bohemian group, from which sprang the word droll, which pours poison, like, mellow and delicate music of a verse.

Each new libation, penalties They were still farther from the group, and new inspiration came
all brains, with the broken romance coming on the wings of memory.

Forgot to say that that night, he celebrated bohemian group laughs, libations, jokes and poems, the agony of a year that left bitterness in every breast, and the arrival, a logical consequence, "Happy New Year" ...

A male voice said suddenly, the twelve peers;
say the "requiescat" for the year has become the dead.
Here's to the year ahead!
because we bring dreams, because your luggage is not a cluster of bitter afflictions ...

- Toast, said another voice, hope that life throws at us, to overcome the rigors of fate, hope, our sweet friend, that mitigates punishment and garden becomes our way.

I drink because my life been to put an end to violence brandishing my revenge on my forehead, if my tulle sky clean and shine my divine but not a pale star: I hope.

Bravo, said everyone has been inspired tonight and spoke good, brief and substantial.
The shift is Raul, lift your glass and toast ... Europe, as their foreignness is delicious ...

Bebo and toast, cried the challenged, here's to my past, which was light, love and joy, and in which fronts were dreamy and seductive women who came together with my forehead ...

Here's to yesterday in the bitter darkness that now covers my heart, spreads his consolations
bringing to my mind the sweetness of enjoyment, of tenderness, of these, in raptures, of sleepless nights.

-I make a toast, said John, because in my mind shoot a stream of divine inspiration and seductive, it vibrates on the strings of my lyre that sighs verse, smiling, singing and love.

I drink because my verses which arrows from reaching the cracks formed of metal and granite, the heart of the ungrateful woman who disdains kill me ... but has a very nice body!

Because your heart be my song, because my tears rinse your hands cause I raptures;
because my passion more than I paid ... come on, because I was drunk with the divine nectar of your kisses.

Followed the storm of empty phrases, so human that those are everywhere accommodated,
and every sentence of burning enthusiasm, applause was growing, and libations, and laugh, and everything.

Was provided by the country, for flowers, for the chaste love that make a fence of a window,
those passions and voluptuous pleasure mud full of roses and make the woman a courtesan.

All that remained was a toast, that of Arthur, the bohemian pure-hearted and big head, he who bluntly declared that aspired only to steal inspiration to sadness.

Everywhere narrowed, raised his glass in front of the merry troop bursting with laughter and delight
flooded in the light of a look, shook his mane and said alborotaday with inspired accent:

-Here's to women, but not by that in which ye find consolation in sorrow, embers of hapless pleasure!, Not that he gives you his spells when artificially scented besáis curls.

I do not drink to her peers, I feel this may not please you. Here's to women, but for one, which gave me their raptures and wrapped me in his kisses, for the woman I cooed in the cradle.

For the woman who taught me as a child it is worth the love exquisite, deep and true, for the woman who cradled me in his arms and gave me to pieces one by one, the whole heart.

For my mother! .. bohemians, the old woman thought for the morrow as something very sweet and very desirable, perhaps because he dreams that my destiny shows me the way
I will return soon by his side.

For the old beloved and blessed by the blood that gives me life, and tenderness and affection for which he was the light of my soul, and wept for joy feeling my head in her bra.

For that I offer myself, let him cry, tears deflowering that this penalty lethal killing me, let my mother toast absent, the crying and feel that my absence is a fire that ignited.

For the elderly who suffer unhappy and cries and begs to return from heaven I will soon be with her for my mother, Bohemians, which is gently poured into my bitterness and on this night of my life, star ...

The Bohemian silent, no accent desecrated the feeling born of pain and tenderness, and found out about that environment immensely floated a poem of love and bitterness.

Author William Aguirre and Fierro, amazing voice!

Buy House In Sacraamento, wishes you a happy new year 2009 will come quel full of health, joy and happiness to all of you and your loved ones who have union, reconciliation, success, peace, respect for our neighbors and a lot of energy to continue below, and if one of your wishes is to buy your house, this is the best, and interest rates are still ridiculously low, it will stay so forever, if you have good credit and traabajo, do not wait, buy your home far.

The Golden Team

Graciella Valley

This entry was posted on Wednesday, December 31st, 2008 at 3:17 a.m. and is filed under Real Estate Sacramento , Then and Now . You can follow responses to this entry Any-through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response , or trackback from your own site.

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