La tarde del Viernes Santo
Triana espera impaciente
al Cristo que va expirando
sobre un monte de claveles.
Al ver tu cara, Cachorro
el Sol se nubla impotente
y se cubre todo el cielo
de negras nubes de muerte.
Por las calles de Sevilla
entre el
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fervor trianero
vas caminando, Cachorro
con tu mirada hacia el cielo.
Unas manos prodigiosas
tallaron tu inmenso cuerpo
reflejando en tu agonía
Rosario de sufrimiento.
La luna desde los cielos
asomada entre cristales
te está cantando, Cachorro
saetas por soleares.
Autor: El NIño del Zurraque
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Antonio Borrego says
6 mayo, 2013 at 13:03SUBLIME!!!