BOSQUE DE LA HERRERÍA and RUPI KAUR

BOSQUE DE LA HERRERÍA and RUPI KAUR

Just half an hour from Madrid, next to El Escorial, you immerse yourself in the beautiful calm of the Bosque de la Herrería.

 

During the spring thousands of birds sing their best melodies, millions of plants and flowers dot the newly born grass, innumerable species of insects, lizards, small rodents and mammals inhabit this enchanted forest.

There are two ways to get there, but I advise you to cross the impressive San Lorenzo del Escorial with its Monastery built between 1563 and 1584.

And if you have a few minutes, walk around it, you will discover a thousand things in its stones.

 

When you arrive at the there is a first parking lot with small tables and a fountain, but if you continue upwards, after the famous and unlikely Silla de Felipe II, you will continue walking along a road cut off by traffic.

 

You will find yourself in a magical place.

What do I do in the middle of the forest?

I walk, I listen, I smell, I play with Blue … and I write.

Now, finishing my first collection of poems, which will soon be released.

RUPI KAUR

The poems of Rupi Kaur are with me.

Rupi Kaur, born in India and living in Canada, is a poet, illustrator and actress. She has published “Milk and Honey” and “The Sun and her Flowers”.


Some Rupi Kaur poems

I want to apologize to all the women

I have call pretty

Before I’ve call them intelligent or brave

i am sorry i made it sound as though

something as simple as what you’re born with

is all you have to be proud of

when you have broken mountains with your wit

from now on i will say things like

you are resilient, or you are extraordinary

not because i don’t think you’re beautiful

but because i need you to know

I stand

on the sacrifices

of a million women before me

thinking

what can i do

to make this mountain taller

so the women after me

can see farther

What is the greatest lesson a woman should

learn

that since day one

she’s already had everything she needs within herself

it’s the world that convinced her she did not

GÉVALO VALLEY and IDA VITALE

GÉVALO VALLEY and IDA VITALE

!Qué verde era mi valle!

 

Parafraseando al enorme John Ford… qué verde es mi valle .

Me tendréis que permitir este pequeño homenaje al lugar donde nací, donde está este corazón loco, donde siempre encuentro la paz aunque el mundo se vuelva loco a mi alrededor.

El Valle del Gévalo, en los montes de Toledo, es un lugar casi desconocido y que guarda enormes tesoros naturales.

 

Furrowed by the river Gévalo, it is a valley that occupies a great backbone within the region of La Jara in the westernmost end of the Montes de Toledo.

From Los Navalmorales, where the “civilization” ends, we begin to delve into the mountain.

From here, it’s all magic.

What will you find there?

Unspoiled nature, crystalline waters, a green valley populated with Oaks, Holm oaks, Gall, Cork oaks, arbutus, heather, birch, chestnut, Jara and ancient yew… Of those who have been the guardians of the valley for 2,000 years.

And if you are lucky, you will be able to cross with a stag, a deer, a boar, a badger, some otter, eagles, owls, frogs, some Roadrunner Fox and a myriad of birds.

What to see?

Everything, but there are two places of exceptional beauty.

The Microreserve of the biosphere La Garganta de las Lanchas, where you can see three waterfalls of spectacular beauty, and enjoy the Parrot (Prunus lusitanica), related to Prunos, rosebushes and similar species. This species has an age of more than 50 million years, in particular of a time when the climate was much warmer and moister than the present. When the weather was changing getting colder and drier, all the species were disappearing except the most resistant, they managed to survive in specific areas with favorable characteristics, so precisely for that reason they are very scarce.

And the hermitage of Piedraescrita, a hermitage of the 12th century, nestled in the rock, with a gabled roof that pours over the Tajo and Guadiana basins. Its main feature is a valuable tilework Talavera from the 16TH and 17TH century with scenes from the New Testament that cover its walls.

 

 

Here you have a video flying over the Garganta de las Lanchas … beautiful, right?

Ida Vitale

Who better than the winner of the Cervantes Prize 2018 to accompany you for this beautiful tour?

Uruguayan poet and critic born in Montevideo in 1924.
He studied humanities in his country, teaching literature until 1973 when the dictatorship forced her into exile.
He lived in Mexico from 1974 to 1984, settling definitively in Austin, Texas, since 1989.

 

 

 

Drops

Do they get hurt and melt?
They just ceased to be the rain.
Sleepers in recess,
kittens of a transparent kingdom,
they run free by glass and railings,
thresholds of his limbo,
are followed, pursued,
maybe they go, from solitude to weddings,
To melt and love each other.
they dream of another death.

Of “Infinity Reduction” 2002

Exiles

… after both here and there coming and going.
Francisco de Aldana

They are here and there: by the way,
nowhere.
every horizon: where an ember attracts.
They could go to any fissure.
No compass, no voices.

They cross deserts that the bravo Sun
or that the frost burn
and infinite fields without the limit
that makes them real,
that would make them solid and grassy.

The look lies like a dog,
without even the resource of moving a tail.
The gaze lies down or regresses,
is pulverized by air
If no one returns it.
Does not return to the blood or reach
to whom I should.

It dissolves, so alone.

Of “De procura lo imposible” 1998

 

Month of May

I write, write, write
And I don’t drive to anything, to anyone.
The words are frightening me
like doves, deafly crackling,
they root in their dark lump,
are prevailed with fine scruple
of the undeniable scandal:
over the vague written shadow
I care more about loving you.

From “Oidor Andante” 1972

 

Sums

horse and knight are already two animals

One plus one, we say. And we thought:
an apple plus an apple,
a glass and a glass,
always the same things.

What change when
one plus one be a puritan
more a gamelan
a jasmine plus an arab,
a nun and a cliff,
a song and a mask,
again a garrison and a maid,
someone hope
plus the dream of another.

Of “Infinity Reduction” 2002

! The journey has begun!

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A FROG TIED UP? by BLUE

A FROG TIED UP? by BLUE

Is anyone really that wild enough to tie a frog?

A “tied” frog unleashes the fury of a lady walking near the river.

Spring is here, with its little sunshine and downpours. The true, I like that the mountain smells of rain, but I do not like to get wet, so I go hiding where I can to protect me from the rain.

That day first it was sunny, then it rained a little and again the sun came out. We were in La Pedriza and mommy wanted to try a mat that was just bought, while I was chasing the smells of squirrels who mocked me from the trees.

Suddenly there are cries; a very, very angry lady, screams near us.

She goes with a gentleman, also older, and they scream right across the river. I do not have a very broad vocabulary, but I know how to distinguish words like “savage”, “denounce”, “intolerable”… They scream and shout! ” Do something, man! ” !” Poor Frog! ” and stuff like that.

Mummy, quietly lying down reading on her newly-released air bed, hears a little screaming and goes on with her book.

Relax, Blue, I’m told, they look a little hysterical.

But they scream and scream, I bark and bark, and finally mommy gets up and we cross the bridge across the river.

 

When we get to the other side, in a tiny pond, there are… A frog tied up.

That’s what the lady insists on screaming.

We approach to discover that it is not a frog, there are two, and they are mating.

The male, tiny (but brave) is on the female, and she is releasing a chain of eggs that the male is fertilizing on the fly.

Teamwork is called that.

But of course, if you don’t know what’s going on, and you don’t even see your feet, you might think the frog is tied.

 

Mommy tells the lady to please stop screaming and disturb the peace of those two frogs that are just reproducing.

The lady does not like mommy to take the opposite, and continues to shout that is a brutality, that is to denounce it, who will have been the thug… There’s no way she understands what she’s got before his eyes.

With all that scandal we have alerted the few walkers, and at the moment come some mountaineers, who ask what happens… While the lady continues with her cries.

 

The mountaineers burst into laughter, mommy joins them, and I think they could be heard in Timbuktu. I scamper happy.

The couple walk away, very dignified, talking among them of how little respectful young people are.

Mommy and the mountaineers are still laughing and I’m happy with new friends who pamper me.

And I also give some races between these flowers so beautiful.

Did you like to read me?

 

 

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JERTE VALLEY IN BLOOM, THE SPANISH SAKURA and INMA CHACÓN

JERTE VALLEY IN BLOOM, THE SPANISH SAKURA and INMA CHACÓN

The Valle Del Jerte in bloom is one of the most beautiful landscapes to discover when the spring begins to awaken.

Two million cherry blossoms of immaculate white, planted on terraces in this narrow valley, give you a deep, scented silence of flowers.

Lying under this canopy of white against the blue infinity you feel that you are part of this planet.

It Is one of those places that you will take a swelling heart of white and a quiet happiness, where you leave only your smile and the footprint of your feet.

 

 

The Spanish Sakura

Cherry blossoms, Sakura桜 in Japanese, have an important meaning. This is related to part of the samurai code in Japan. What’s more, the emblem of the Samurai warriors was the cherry blossom. The aspiration of a samurai was to die in his moment of maximum splendor, in battle, and not to age and “wilt”, nor wilt the cherry blossom, which falls from the tree pushed by the wind.

The Importance of Sakura dates back centuries, when the flowering of these trees marked the beginning of spring and, therefore, warned of the ideal time to plant rice, crucial food for the first inhabitants of This country.

During This period, the cherry trees were seen as sacred beings and it was believed that the souls of the mountain gods nested within them.

For this reason, the farmers worshipped these trees and believed that, when the Sakura ‘s Flowers were at its peak, it was when the gods descended to the villages and became rice paddies to help the rice production.

As good lovers of beauty, we celebrate our particular Hanami花見, which literally translates to “looking at flowers.”

Do you know where to enjoy this blossom in Japan? Look here

And If you are not in Japan, or you are far away, here you have the best places in the world to see the cherry blossoms, surely some of you are close.

Our hanami: Mixed
Paella

Under The flower canopy of the cherry trees, sitting with friends to have a wine, a little cheese and some olives, has been our wonderful Hanami this year.

And at nightfall, on the edge of the river Jerte, while the cherry blossoms were contemplating us from the other side of the river, our Hanami 花見has continued with a paella over fire next to the transparent and magical waters of this river.

 

Until you master good video tools, here I leave a very “homemade” Jerte Valley in bloom.

View of the valley through the white of the flowers, isn’t it to fall in love?

Extremadura is the birthplace of Inma Chacón

This Valley is the best place to read his poems to those who love that wonder of cherry blossoms, as she writes:

“… A ritual that begins tenaciously every March. “

Myths

If we should look mirrors
where quenching thirst and drought

what would the water be like?

And the value,
If the shield reflex was enough
to overcome fear?

What would be the crying
If we could bleed
In the veins of the others.

And dreams
If we were not
The ones that close our the eyelids.

What would be the skinless hug
And the rain without splashes.
Brightness without crystal
of transparency, without the other side.

What would Sisyphus without stone behind his back?

From the black, from the shadow.
of truth,
of the day,
of the silk rubbing.

What would the myth
without us?


If you want to know more about her here you have her personal page

Some poems by Inma Chacón

NOT EVEN THE PAIN

(Nine of Cups)

Not even the smell of your clothes

has managed to stay

In the closet.

Anything about you

they already preserve these walls

where you hung my pictures,

this vacuum

that will order other hands

at his leisure.

Neither you nor I

We belong already

to this place

that looked so ours.

Nightmares and dreams

they left the house

with us.

Only the garden

vaguely remembers

what we were,

Our garden

and its perennial trees.

 

 

… A ritual that begins tenaciously every March

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