Writer, author, short story writer, poet, youtuber, blogger.
The sirens dance in the waves of the accordion,
at a Panamanian party, held at the bottom of the sea.
An ocean horse displays its grace and fun;
with dresses of montunos and carnival drums.
The tremors and the algae,
they visit happiness,
I am invaded by a great nostalgia,
of country and welfare.
The fins of the provinces move the currents.
To the currents of the homeland in minds and crossroads.
The typical singers are already fainting,
from so much raising the flight of his inspired throat.
It's his talent that shines, it's his talent that comes back!
He sings to his land of tradition;
resurrected the voice of his great-grandfather the singer.
I sing to life and love
Tradition sculpts life,
Long live love, long live the sun.
Long live God!
Today I sing to life
Today I sing to love.
I will make a trip, on a tour of my country.
I will visit all the provinces of Panama;
To each of its islands and much more.
I will dance, I will sing, and I will kiss the ocean,
ecstatic in the beauty of folklore,
hugging my love.
The breeze hypnotizes us with the beautiful carnivals,
allying a happy celebration in annual spaces.
We will compromise time, space and concerts;
Visiting every stretch of Panamanian joy;
Life shines in diablicos and sparks.
Comparsas and flavors surround us with joy,
about colorful street bands and throngs of fantasies.
multicolored rainbow lineage,
Borders each beach and its waves.
modeling its borders.
The steps move on the accordion,
The ocarina, the mandolin and the drum.
Sensual movements, those of the audience;
Dance, and move your body in fires and experiences.
An allegorical car shows his grace,
in front the mojadera leaves us without air.
Panamanians and foreigners come to dance,
I invite you to have endless fun.
The smiles are adorned with corals and palm trees,
in seafood tasting, sandwiches and chimeras.
We will dance something typical, something national;
Music that we will record in the sea,
in its sand, in its castles and in its look.
I picked up nance, in the agrest patio,
fruits flavored with family evenings.
Artistic visions, it show in glass bottles,
with its hundreds of spheres sweetened by waiting.
Small yellow halos, with a taste of the rural homeland,
and interiorana, crumble in that vase that poses
on my grandmother's rudimentary table.
In the courtyard, traditions and well-known voices are breathed
they emit pleasant regionalisms.
Fried fish and Yuca, and other dishes
they lie suggestive in the plates.
Of pleasant sensations of tenderness;
the totumas, are the glasses, which shows the rustic table,
that invites you to taste its incomparable dishes.
The reader and the mermaid
I have magical powers in the sea;
by the experiences scattered in the sand of heaven.
Sand I pick up with my hands on flights!
Keeping them in secret and hidden spaces.
I am a Panamanian mermaid, dressed and with a jacket.
Right now I will tell you about my powers:
I can float at will and travel until dawn.
Travel to the paradise of nuances and pleasures.
I can transform feelings into gold and diamonds;
If I kiss the waves that the aura of the sea brings from the distant oasis.
I can also bewitch the minds of lovers,
and turn their fiery emotions into rave notes.
I also have the power to project myself into your mind,
Yes, yourself! Just close your eyes and focus.
You will see me emerge from the ocean; siren, thoughtful and aware;
Whoever you are, take my hands and come on over.
Preferably, I hope it's a man,
if you are a woman, take the Triton poet by the hands;
that he is next to me, in that chair.
He will lead her to the depths of the certain ocean,
while I'm still with you gentleman.
Hand in hand we entered the city of sea and sand;
We see by our side thousands of kryptons and sirens.
We also see Triton with our reading friend.
I'll treat you to something. Wait, don't go, a moment!
Do you want a cup of punishment?
Come on, look at those shrimp, they're my friends,
I hope you don't eat them when you see them in the river.
Look beyond, the poor destitute turtles,
they are dying out because of people.
Now let's go up momentarily to the rocks of thoughts.
I want to contemplate the iguana and its offspring.
They are also victims of generalized unconsciousness;
their habitat is destroyed, almost destitute.
They devastate the species that lie in trouble.
Now let's go down again, below are the contaminated fish.
Yesterday they dropped oil into our beautiful silver sea.
Do not panic! Thousands of fish seem stiff,
But their spirits are still alive in our sky;
The marine soul watches from above...
© 2022 Venus Mary