lunes, 1 de abril de 2013
He raised his hands, his fingers to brush the stars, which seemed to blend with each other, the ghost of his mind went back to ask why he had gone into the dead land, only around sand dunes million around him, the memory he breathed his last the courage to be and stay where he was. Born in any city, had been an ordinary man but a child would die Wind, a Imohags, and would not willingly but forced by the stars that one day you will be able to reach and slipped through his fingers like sand desert ., leaving empty and cracked hands.
There was good, the fire illuminated the oasis and the swaying palms plunged it into a sweet slumber almost hypnotic, pleasant. It was powerful, it was a Tuareg.
Suddenly a dragonfly. Silently and gently landed on his legs crossed, his eyes staring at the Imohags inquisitive.
- Do not fear me? In one move could squash against my legs, pluck your wings fragile glass and could never fly again, or take you and deprive you of freedom.
- Do not fear walking, but you I do. As I descend the wind, progress through life with the pride of being free, but I fear more than thirst or sandstorm.
- I'm a Imohag, a Tuareg, my race, my ancestors roam and dominate this desert from the beginning of time, not afraid of anyone, or anything, less fragile and a little dragonfly that has no defense for his wings escape.
- Why then have hidden your face from me? Which of the two is stronger? Did you hidden you hide your smile and your tears, to hide the gestures of a face that fear share? Did you that you are using the black robe to enhance your figure diluting its folds your emotions, or do I do that free flight through the desert with two glass wings without fear posarme leg of the King of the desert?
Your loneliness is like mine, we cry the same tears, the night is long and cold equally to both. Both yearn to catch the stars and posarnos in them. But you who are hidden for fear, I, I just love flight.
This is your hardness glass fragility, that one stroke is broken into pieces. It's me love simplicity indestructible hardness, inner strength,
That the winds are favorable you brother, and dawn appease your pain ...
The Tuareg pulled the cloak from his face and turned his gaze following the flight of the dragonfly.
It really was free, that was true freedom, two tears ran over her face. It was only with the crackle of flames and the wind whipping the palm trees, and a dragonfly dawn of infinite colors toured the oasis and back were covered with a black cloth sand, robes and veils, buried as old shells of ancient battles.
Many stories without reflection of the African people, General Joao Baptista de Matos, general of Angola during its mandate exerted loved to tell stories of ancient Africa to keep the oldest customs