FUENTE
Poesía: A mi ciudad Mérida
El verde de tus montañas es perfecto ningún color es tan puro y natural como el de tus montañas que nos llenan de vida y nos purifican. Haz soportado tanto mi dulce Mérida que si supiera donde están tus lágrimas iría a secarlas y darte cobijo. Ese cobijo que me das a mí.
Como no querer despertarme de entre mis cobijas de lana, y enseguida salir a percibir tu clima y junto a ti disfrutar del chocolate caliente, respirando profundo y viéndote como enamorado, como si no hubiera nada más hermoso, mi eterna ciudad amada, quiero solo pensar que me quedare en ti enraizado y pasare mil vidas si puedo renacer sin pensarlo te escogería de nuevo.
Aunque tu pelo blanco se esté cayendo y ya tus picos no se vistan con el blanco más puro ese que traspasa el alma y nos atrapa sigo esperándote cada año a que te vistas para mí, para bailarte y verte impecable mi sierra merideña mi dama antañona te llevo en mi como sello que orgullo venir de ti y representarte ente el mundo. Mi Mérida pequeña que me hace grande….
Poetry: To my city Merida
Here at the foot of your snow-capped mountain range, I close my eyes and I hunt the air that in puffs fills my taste buds and makes me feel good, I smell you and I smile in a complete love affair for you, I only remember how much I missed your smell and your cold that embraces me but gives me warmth. How perfect you are, that stillness that comes from your mountains and the air currents that caresses my face makes me only think pretty and feel happy to be alive.
The green of your mountains is perfect, no color is as pure and natural as that of your mountains that fill us with life and purify us. You have endured so much my sweet Merida that if I knew where your tears were I would go to dry them and give you shelter. That shelter that you give me.
How could I not want to wake up from my wool blankets, and immediately go out to perceive your climate and next to you enjoy hot chocolate, breathing deeply and seeing you as if in love, as if there were nothing more beautiful, my eternal beloved city, I just want to think that I will stay rooted in you and spend a thousand lives if I can be reborn without thinking about it I would choose you again.
Although your white hair is falling and your beaks are no longer dressed in the purest white that pierces the soul and traps us, I keep waiting for you every year to dress for me, to dance and look impeccable my merideña sierra my old lady I carry you in me as a seal that pride to come from you and represent you in the world. My little Merida that makes me big....
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
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