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<body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink=purple>Gracias JL! Por compartir tus emociones y tus impresiones sobre este evento que como bien describes pasará a la historia por muchas razones! Gracias <br/>Elisabeth <br/><p>Enviado desde mi BlackBerry de Movistar</p><hr/><div><b>From: </b> JL Walker <jlwalker@terra.cl>
</div><div><b>Sender: </b> OSLIST <OSLIST@LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU>
</div><div><b>Date: </b>Fri, 15 Oct 2010 13:54:09 -0300</div><div><b>To: </b><OSLIST@LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU></div><div><b>ReplyTo: </b> OSLIST <OSLIST@LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU>
</div><div><b>Subject: </b>Re: [OSLIST] PRE-INVITATION XIX WOSonOS CHILE 2011 (corrected)</div><div><br/></div>
<div class=WordSection1>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
color:#1F497D'>Thank you very much again my dear Suzanne for your always loving
and inspiring words and comments.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
color:#1F497D'>As a gift that makes sense with all this experience, I am
sending you and all, the Canto XII from The Heights of Macchu Picchu of Pablo
Neruda.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
color:#1F497D'>A big hug<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
color:#1F497D'>Juan Luis<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
color:#1F497D'><a href="http://www.espacioabierto.net">http://www.espacioabierto.net</a>
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
color:#1F497D'><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:10.5pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";
color:#333333'>Arise to birth with me, my brother.<br>
Give me your hand out of the depths<br>
sown by your sorrows.<br>
You will not return from these stone fastnesses.<br>
You will not emerge from subterranean time.<br>
Your rasping voice will not come back,<br>
nor your pierced eyes rise from their sockets.<br>
<br>
Look at me from the depths of the earth,<br>
tiller of fields, weaver, reticent shepherd,<br>
groom of totemic guanacos,<br>
mason high on your treacherous scaffolding,<br>
iceman of Andean tears,<br>
jeweler with crushed fingers,<br>
farmer anxious among his seedlings,<br>
potter wasted among his clays--<br>
bring to the cup of this new life<br>
your ancient buried sorrows.<br>
Show me your blood and your furrow;<br>
say to me: here I was scourged<br>
because a gem was dull or because the earth<br>
failed to give up in time its tithe of corn or stone.<br>
Point out to me the rock on which you stumbled,<br>
the wood they used to crucify your body.<br>
Strike the old flints<br>
to kindle ancient lamps, light up the whips<br>
glued to your wounds throughout the centuries<br>
and light the axes gleaming with your blood.<br>
<br>
I come to speak for your dead mouths.<br>
<br>
Throughout the earth<br>
let dead lips congregate,<br>
out of the depths spin this long night to me<br>
as if I rode at anchor here with you.<br>
<br>
And tell me everything, tell chain by chain,<br>
and link by link, and step by step;<br>
sharpen the knives you kept hidden away,<br>
thrust them into my breast, into my hands,<br>
like a torrent of sunbursts,<br>
an Amazon of buried jaguars,<br>
and leave me cry: hours, days and years,<br>
blind ages, stellar centuries.<br>
<br>
And give me silence, give me water, hope.<br>
<br>
Give me the struggle, the iron, the volcanoes.<br>
<br>
Let bodies cling like magnets to my body.<br>
<br>
Come quickly to my veins and to my mouth.<br>
<br>
Speak through my speech, and through my blood. <br>
<br>
</span><span style='font-size:15.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";
color:#333333'>Pablo Neruda</span><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:
"Calibri","sans-serif";color:#1F497D'><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
color:#1F497D'><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<div style='border:none;border-top:solid #B5C4DF 1.0pt;padding:3.0pt 0cm 0cm 0cm'>
<p class=MsoNormal><b><span lang=ES style='font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'>De:</span></b><span
lang=ES style='font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'> OSLIST
[mailto:OSLIST@LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU] <b>En nombre de </b>Suzanne Daigle<br>
<b>Enviado el:</b> miércoles, 13 de octubre de 2010 10:38<br>
<b>Para:</b> OSLIST@LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU<br>
<b>Asunto:</b> Re: [OSLIST] PRE-INVITATION XIX WOSonOS CHILE 2011 (corrected)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto'><span
lang=ES-TRAD style='font-size:11.0pt;color:#1F497D'>And as an old song says
over here:<i>“Y veras como quieren en <span class=il>Chile</span> al
amigo cuando es forastero”.</i></span><span lang=ES-TRAD
style='color:#1F497D'><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto'><span
lang=ES-TRAD style='font-size:11.0pt;color:#1F497D'>Juan Luis</span><span
lang=ES-TRAD style='color:#1F497D'><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal style='margin-bottom:12.0pt'><span style='background:#FFFF33'>Translation
"And you will know how in Chile they love friends that are
strangers." </span><span style='background:#E6ECF9'> </span> <br>
<br>
<img border=0 width=32 height=32 id="_x0000_i1025" src="cid:B0C@goomoji.gmail">
Today more than ever Juan Luis, we are no longer strangers, we are all friends.
<br>
<br>
Juan Luis, as I was watching the miners, one by one, being welcomed by
their family, their country and the world, listening to the passionate chant of
"Chile" being repeated over and over again, remembering you doing the
same in Berlin when you invited us to the 2011 WOSonOS , I felt I had to reach
out in collective celebration of life and our common humanity. <br>
<br>
And then to hear the story of how a white butterfly is what probably saved the
lives of a few of those miners just moments before the mine collapsed, how
could I not think of Open Space, the work that we do and our wonderful
international community. It appears the miners had slowed down their
truck to admire in wonder this beautiful creature rarely if ever seen in the
depth of a mine and as they did, rocks came crashing down right in front of
them. By doing nothing, being still to admire this beautiful butterfly, it
opened space for life and new beginnings. <br>
<br>
Friendship from us to you and all of Chile on this special day!<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<o:p></o:p></p>
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