现行反革命都成了未有的马背上的亡灵

What can I hold you with?

What can I hold you with?

I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the moon of the jagged
suburbs.

I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the moon of the jagged
suburbs.

I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the moon of the jagged
suburbs.

I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at the
lonely moon.

I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at
the lonely moon.

I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at the
lonely moon.

I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts that living men have
honoured in marble: my father’s father killed in the frontier of Buenos
Aires, two bullets through his lungs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his
soldiers in the hide of a cow; my mother’s grandfather -just twentyfour-
heading a charge of three hundred men in Perú, now ghosts on vanished
horses.

I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts that living men have
honoured in bronze:

I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts that living men have
honoured in marble: my father’s father killed in the frontier of Buenos
Aires, two bullets through his lungs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his
soldiers in the hide of a cow; my mother’s grandfather -just twentyfour-
heading a charge of three hundred men in Perú, now ghosts on vanished
horses.

I offer you whatever insight my books may hold. whatever manliness or
humour my life.

my father’s father killed in the frontier of Buenos Aires, two bullets
through his lungs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in the hide
of a cow; my mother’s grandfather –just twentyfour– heading a charge
of three hundred men in Peru, now ghosts on vanished horses.

I offer you whatever insight my books may hold. whatever manliness or
humour my life.

I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never been loyal.

I offer you whatever insight my books may hold, whatever manliness or
humour my life.

I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never been loyal.

I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved somehow -the central
heart that deals not in words, traffics not with dreams and is untouched
by time, by joy, by adversities.

I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never been loyal.

I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved somehow -the central
heart that deals not in words, traffics not with dreams and is untouched
by time, by joy, by adversities.

I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you
were born.

I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved, somehow –the
central heart that deals not in words, traffics not with dreams, and is
untouched by time, by joy, by adversities.

I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you
were born.

I offer you explanationsof yourself, theories about yourself, authentic
and surprising news of yourself.

I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you were born.

I offer you explanations of yourself, theories about yourself, authentic
and surprising news of yourself.

I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; I
am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.

自个儿用什么样技能留下你?
  小编给你贫穷的街道、绝望的日落、破败来安县的月亮。
  我给您叁个持久地瞧着孤月的人的难过。
  笔者给您作者已甩手人寰的先辈,大家用丹东石纪念他们的阴魂:
  在Washington边境阵亡的本身老爸的阿爹,两颗子弹射穿了她的胸腔,蓄着胡须的他死去了,士兵们用牛皮裹起他的遗骸;小编阿娘的公公——时年二十陆虚岁——在秘鲁共和国(La República del Perú)辅导三百名新秀冲锋,这段时间都成了未有的马背上的阴魂。
  笔者给你自个儿写的书中所能包罗的整整悟力、作者生活中所能有些汉子气概或风趣。
  小编给您叁个从未有过有过信仰的人的忠诚。
  笔者给您本身灵机一动保全的本人要好的中央——不营字造句,不和
梦想交易,不被岁月、喜悦和逆境触动的主干。
  笔者给您,早在您出生前连年的三个迟暮见到的一朵黄玫瑰的记得。
  作者给你你对和谐的批注,关于您本人的申辩,你自个儿的忠实而震憾的音信。
  小编给您笔者的落寞、作者的黄色、作者心的饥渴;小编试图用质疑、危险、退步来触动您。

图片 1

I offer you explanationsof yourself, theories about yourself, authentic
and surprising news of yourself.

I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; I am
trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.

I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; I am
trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.

——Jorge Luis Borges

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