llugares / places

Llugares onde fuimos felices, o llugares onde agora creyemos qu`entamábemos a ser.
El pruyir siempre repetíu, engoláu yà d`allén nel tiempu.
Pero en cada llugar, en cada requexu, en cada paisax, en cada camín, el recuerdu queda llantáu, enreizáu nel suelu. Cada cachu tierra tien un nome, cada nome trai un recuerdu, y na memoria too ta, y se tien dientro.

Places where we once were happy, places where we now think we would become happy.
The repeating yearning, is hanged up there, transcending time.
But in every place, in every corner, on every landscape and on every path, our memories stay forever, rooted in the land. Every piece of land has its name, every name its memory, and memory has it all.

The newspaper published today the photo of a hut where I stayed for a night with the youth hiking group in my teens. we were learning to name places and guide ourselves and by that time I believed I would always keep training both my mind and my body, and that joy in life consisted in always aiming for higher goals. Metaphorically, the hut is falling down due to no use and hard weather conditions; but the news said that the authorities are going to repair it and open it to the public again (hence the photo and article) . To me they just triggered memories of disgusting rice good Ramón cooked in a massive pot for all of us, and the interesting conversation with Andrés out on the bench, under a starry sky, while we played who-will-see the MIR space station first. Of course that was before the MIR went to pieces! And god, was it cold out there!!