Tras haber creado mi anterior blog cecilmundo varias personas, muchos de ellos mis alumnos, me sugirieron que creara una secciòn dentro de cecilmundo para publicar mis obras de docencia de idiomas. Dado que la cantidad de documentos de explicaciones, ejercicios y exàmenes de inglès son muy numerosos porque tengo màs de 30 años del ejercicio de la docencia, preferì estrenar blog con mis alumnos a como ellos realmente merecen. En este blog planetcecil no solo iràn mis documentos didàcticos de inglès, sino tambièn la producciòn literaria de varios alumnos que se destacan en las letras. Tambièn darè oportunidad a aquellos que tienen excelentes obras pero que no han logrado publicarlas ya que en mi paìs Nicaragua todo se mueve por la marrana polìtica, y si una no pertenece a determinado partido no verà jamàs publicado su opus. Tambièn tenemos la desgracia de contar con seudoeditores quienes al no conocer verdaderamente de literatura se convierten en mercenarios de la imprenta solo para llenarse ellos mismo de dinero y fama a costillas de los escritores. Todos aquellos que deseen participar en este blog, denlo de antemano por suyo. Aunque lleve mi nombre en un arranque de egolatrìa, yo soy sencillamente vuestra servidora.Cecilia

Las alas de la educación

Las alas de la educación
La educación es un viaje sin final.

La lección de física

La lección de física
Casi aprendida

jueves, 24 de enero de 2008

more than a king`s Minion


One of the most famous bards from France is Jean Aleixandre of Normandie. Nobleman, philantropist, journalist and amateur veterinarian, he was one of king Henri III´s favorites. He converted into Judaism upon his marriage.He wrote the famous Diary of Ignominy and created several orphanages and animal refuges.He died at age 95 of a heart attack.


I need to believe
In a magic somewhere
To go when I leave.
Being nothing out there
I know the best place to rest
Is by my Seine, with my cats, definitely the best.


He loved with an intensity
That put the sun´s fire to shame.
Let that, Lenore, be an epitaph for me,
The best way to remember my name.

I refuse to believe in miracles, but, guess …what´s that?
I´ll credit nature as a goddess, for she made my Gnat.

Cravings are your belly´s memories
About past felicity and future delight.

On a sultry summer day
Clouds puff whiskers and paws,
Tails and snouts and claws
As a premonition that if someday
Reincarnation may prove true.
I may come back to life again, as a cat, too.

Cat swallowed a sun, it glows in its eyes
And rumbles in its warmth.

If you were real
I´d love to tell you
How I feel.

They taught us as was due
That you´re a trinity
But, truth to tell
It sounds like nonsense to me.

As a father, you fell
Into the worst thing you could do.
You never loved your son
If you sacrificed him too.
As a father that I am I look upon
You as the worst monster there can be.
As a father of 4 children, no,
I´d never send them to death, not me!
I´d spare them any woe.

Holy Ghost? What ghost or spirit fair
Were you but a lascivious cad
Who took another man´s bride and made her bear
A bastard? Holy… was that the best holiness you had?

Son. If bearded Jesus was your son indeed
He seems most likable of all the lot, in a way.
Yet he was too submissive, and despite his deeds
He should have known better than to obey.

I don´t like you, god. I don´t.
I´ve asked you to show up, but you won´t.
You aren´t even dead.
I suspect you never existed, instead.

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