Fernando Delgadillo Miscellaneous >I noticed that it didn't count much,
because it ended mysteriously
when I was going to say what I knew
and to avoid being longer,
I closed the litany.
-Again he said that he knows,
but he hasn't said what he knows
and that it is so long
that it doesn't fit in so much prose.
-I said proudly quoting ,
with a loud and well-tempered voice,
my elaborate criticism
of that very dubious knowledge.
And the ruffian was looking at me
from different positions
/>always against the wall;
He approached me cautiously and exclaimed:
-You again!
I thought you knew me
and to get out of trouble
I said distrustfully:
-Wow... don't be so sure.
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye
and approached, murmuring,
like someone who remembers a face
br/>while he is grumbling.
-Narrow face, long nose,
the same, there is no doubt.
How did he say what he said
that among the people Does he hide himself? -,
he asked and I repeated...
-What again does he say he knows,
but he hasn't said what he knows,
and what is it? so long
that it did not fit into a certain prose.
I say, and so that you can listen to me
as a comment,
skillfully criticizing,
your knowledge... unnecessary .
The rascal jumped
when he received my thrust,
but then he put on the expression
of someone who is not afraid of anything
and said absently... .
-I already heard your comment
silly, but dissatisfied;
I will clarify some things for you
for your good and benefit.
As you think that knowledge
he locks himself into a tune,
he leaves the clear impression
that he has not understood anything;
he does not understand what they are saying to him
and he still wants them to say more.
Looking at your absurd case
it allows me to remember
the story of the little ear
who along with the long ear
never appreciates what he hears,
for crying over what you lack.
But don't be discouraged,
I know for sure
that you will learn from my science
your hard-headed fool.
Hey the story that begins
and listen carefully
the young marriageable women...
I attended a party,
where the bride's groom,
I mean , the husband
of the married bride,
was the son of an uncle of mine
with blue skin,
no more, no less.
The uncle had a little castle
that he inherited from grandparents
who died a long time ago,
when he was a little prince.
But returning to the party,
I mean
that guest did not attend,
out of shame and chivalry.
So, I dressed
as a scoundrel, to dance,
confused with the plebs,
little me It's four days
that had to be celebrated.
And in this way the scoundrel,
recovering the guitar,
sang the most foolish song
that has heard the one
who appreciates accompanied music.
And that with a gentle gesture
he dedicated to the maidens,
Yes!, The wedding of Erefil,
so that they could learn from them.

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