THE THINKER
I roam from town to town to show my nakedness and my air away from doing nothing, rather than thinking. But what I can think seeing the ills to which I admire?.
Paro, debt, violence, hunger, disease .... again the four horsemen of the Apocalypse are folded over the world. Do not learn from history. When we had perished and advanced a step, go back two. And I bare
this cold wind, called Boreas. To see me so helpless that I contemplated the curious, up to one of the bars next to shelter and of course, to take off a good glass of wine Viña Mary. Splendid
comfort!
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