not lived in a crystal palace, nor had knit dresses with silver, but I loved getting shocked by the smell of orange blossoms of the old courtyard.
His greatest treasure was a jar of clay.
The coming and going to a nearby well, fill it with water and smile at the children playing around, he kept busy in mmañanas. In the evening, ring loose, disjointed and dreams.
That princess does not dream?
No princes princesses blue for no palaces, those of these are in yellow,dusty, fresh from the story, or even trying to enter. Nor fairies or stepmothers, or dragons, little more than imaginary goblins, severe maternal and cockroaches.
does not matter anymore.
The princess, as absent when he sings, as absent when he laughs, just dreams. And a rainy day, feet slipping in pitcher falls, breaks down. The princess falls asleep suddenly, without warning, without time to start dreaming.
Now, everything starts to matter, because there is the kiss princes, or the lovely fairies or dragons that custodien, only poor people who weep over the pitcher that his little feet ...
DO NOT CRY MY LAND
DO NOT STOP MY BIRDS TO FLY ...
Gargoyles WIZARD AND PREPARE THIS LAST RIDE!
Atte. Army Clav
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