Se muestran los artículos pertenecientes a Diciembre de 2014.
About my death only the sun knows
I lie here embedded in the past
About my future only the stars know
I lie here alone and in wait
Now I sing my silent song of love
She is my rock, my foundation
Why lament the past, my love?
We are the living present.
My song is everlasting, full
Rock of my life: you are my wish, my will.
The winds may blow the planets may vanish
All is change; all is movement.
Here I remain eternally enthralled
Held in your arms, free and part of all.
My words are embedded in stone, mineralized
What can I say my love, but this:
Love is life's feeder, an eternal turn and return.
You’re a British school teacher and you wonder how you are going to pay off your debts. Then you read that the government is still paying off the debt stacked up during the financial crash in 1720. You’re erudite. You know that the debt problem causes thousands of children to die every year in poor “underdeveloped” countries. And you know also that the debt—supposedly to “help” those countries develop—is increasing by leaps and bounds as the dollars come streaming back from straggling economies to fill the coffers of banks and financial institutions (which have had a hand in the ongoing financial crisis that makes it so difficult for you to get to the end of the month.)
Economics is not your favorite dish, yet you know that the world lives on indebtedness, some thriving on it, some struggling with