Poems of the Secret Garden: Poemas Del Jardin Secreto

By Henry Frye Casas

Henry Frye was born in Bogotá, Colombia, July 16, 1934.
He started writing poetry at a very young age, but this is the first time that he is publishing something.
He moved to the United States in 1960 and started writing in English at the same time that he went to college to get a BBA in Business and an MBA in International Management.

His poetry seems to be based on personal experiences, but in reality, other people experiences have contributed material to his personal style.
He decided to publish his first book, this one, in both languages, Spanish and English.

Love and romance are at the center of his poetry with some glimpses of passion and eroticism, without reaching a crude description of love situations.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 27, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462898589

Henry Frye Casas

Henry Frye was born in Bogotá, Colombia, July 16, 1934. He started writing poetry at a very young age, but this is the first time that he is publishing something. He moved to the United States in 1960 and started writing in English at the same time that he went to college to get a BBA in Business and an MBA in International Management. His poetry seems to be based on personal experiences, but in reality, other people experiences have contributed material to his personal style. He decided to publish his first book, this one, in both languages, Spanish and English. Love and romance are at the center of his poetry with some glimpses of passion and eroticism, without reaching a crude description of love situations. Henry Frye nació en Bogotá, Colombia el 16 de Julio de 1934. El comenzó a escribir poesía a muy temprana edad, pero esta es la primera vez que publica algo. Se trasladó a los Estados Unidos de Norteamérica en 1960 y comenzó a escribir en inglés al mismo tiempo que fue a la universidad para obtener su Bachillerato en Negocios y su maestría en Administración Internacional de Negocios. Su poesía parece estar basada sólo en experiencias personales, pero en realidad las experiencias de otras personas han contribuido material a su estilo personal. El decidió publicar su primer libro en español e inglés. El amor y el romance están al centro de su poesía con algunos tintes de pasión y erotismo, pero sin llegar a tener descripciones crudas de las situaciones amorosas.

Book preview

Copyright © 2011 by Henry Frye Casas.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2011911066

ISBN: Hardcover    978-1-4628-9857-2

ISBN: Softcover      978-1-4628-9856-5

ISBN: Ebook          978-1-4628-9858-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

98203

Contents

The secrets in the garden

Gentleman

The big secret

Forfeit

First kiss

Future

Ideal

I like to dream

When?

The little things

Now that you know

Call me!

Discovery

Lamentations

Loneliness

Love and happiness

Resistance

What’s love?

Real love

For a post card

When we are in silence

Questions

Addiction

As time passes

Bliss

Butterflies

Change

Every time I kiss you

Tenderness

Not having you

Craziness

Reincarnation

Passion

Weekend

Risks

A speck of dust

Anxiety

Reality

The old fool

Happier

Los secretos del Jardín

Caballero

El gran secreto

Renuncia

Primer beso

Futuro

Ideal

Me gusta Soñar

¿Cuándo?

Las cosas pequeñas

Ahora que sabes

Llámame

Descubrimiento

Lamentaciones

Soledad

Amor y felicidad

Resistencia

¿Qué es amor?

Amor verdadero

Para una postal

Cuando estamos en silencio

Preguntas

Adicción

Mientras el tiempo pasa

Júbilo

Mariposas

Cambio

Cuando te beso

Ternura

No tenerte

Locura

Reencarnación

Pasión

Fin de Semana

Riesgos

Mota de polvo

Ansiedad

Realidad

Viejo bobo

Más feliz

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The secrets in the garden

The afternoon was trembling

Under the cold mantle

Of the clouds in Bogota;

We walked following the footprints

We left behind in other afternoons.

Her hand trembled lightly

And I tried to put it in my pocket,

It was a small but strong hand,

A hand built to model rings,

Caresses, gloves and bracelets.

We stopped in a small park

Facing a window with history.

In another September, she awoke him,

And led him through it, and into the glory.

Manuelita’s house was at our backs,

Bolivar’s palace in front of us,

Their love was in the past

But ours was alive and present.

Not all about their love was lost,

There is a secret garden,

A garden were their feverish kisses

Are still, from the past, hidden.

We turned around and enter her house;

We crossed the first patio.

In the middle of the nostalgia, the plants

And the memories of yesterday,

I took her in my arms, she whispered: I love you

And next to Manuelita’s fountain

I gave her the tenderest kiss

That was ever given there.

In the secret garden

Where the roses still grow,

Next to the old memories,

Now are blooming my verses and my love.

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Gentleman

I ask myself, sometimes,

If when we are alone,

Keeping our distances

And talking of many things,

I ask myself if I have been

A perfect gentleman

That has not touched your hands

Or shower you with kisses,

Or if I have been, before your eyes,

A wimp that cowardly

Unforgettable moments

Of happiness has let go by.

I don’t want to disturb your life,

But you should know

That I am crazy about you

And that I admire your beauty.

I don’t want you to think

That I don’t desire to enjoy

Your charms in sweet abandon

Or with passionate rage.

Mi irreproachable behavior

Is not a gentleman’s gift,

Nor is lack of appreciation,

It is old fashion respect

That prevents me from talking,

Because it will cause me to die,

If by telling you that I love you

You wouldn’t see me anymore.

And so, my unspeakable love

Is dying in silence

And I keep on loving you

As a perfect wimp.

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The big secret

There are secrets of secrets

And secrets that are known,

Secrets that are suspected

And secrets that are ignored.

Our secret is a secret

That I only know,

It’s a secret you don’t know.

But that you have suspected.

You are living to ignore it,

And I live to be silent,

But it shines in your eyes,

Behind your eyelashes.

When in silence I look at you,

And we are by ourselves,

I want to tell you my secret

But I prefer to be silent.

Because, if I mention it,

I can lose your silence,

And if I lose it, you will tell me

That my secret is a sin.

So, when my big secret

Is showing in my lips,

It is a kiss that your cheeks

Forgive and allow