MercadoLibre not sell this item and does not participate in any negotiations, sale or refining operations. Only limited to ads of its users. I DO NOT ACCEPT ANY KIND OF CHANGE, NINGNO, SLO CASH, PLEASE DO NOT INSIST !!!!!!!!!. REMEMBER TO GIVE YOU BUY CLICK THE BUTTON IS A FORMAL COMMITMENT OF THE SAME, IF YOU HAVE NO MONEY FOR FREE MARKET OFFERS ME BECAUSE IT IS COBRA COMISINYA negative without exception QUALIFY YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE CONSOLIDATED NO. Because he who kills with that cowardice is, without doubt, social rejection, a being petty and ignorant, never have been a mile or what the word poetry. What are the veins and murderers and assassins, those who order and those who execute a death? Why a poet, a musician, a father, son, brother? Why a human being?. On Saturday July 9, when I learned of the murder of Facundo Cabral, was making popcorn for my daughter . . The happy sound of the corn into the pot bust shook me, because just then I heard the news: "a hail of bullets reached the poet". Just preparing to sit at the snack Letras Libres and curiously read the first article I read was that of Enrique Serna, entitled "The Terrorist Song" which addresses the issue of narco-corridos and notes that those who make "no bones appear as spokespersons of the underworld. " Although this crime was not in Mexico, gives us a little pattern to confirm with regret that in most cases "we are what we hear. ". The festive tone of the singers, crucifixes adorned with bracelets of solid gold and studded with precious stones, in contrast to the intimidating and bullying letter, which seeks undoubtedly strike terror into the auditorium, but also impress the lumpen mass dazzled by signs of status. Singers bullies abound in today's pop music, but genres like death metal or hip hop, melody horrísona agrees with the content or braggart satanic lyrics. Instead, the playful tune of the hymn of battle, which could serve as a jingle from an agricultural show, trivializes the horror and thus lowers the value of human life. So far the appointment. No crime is justifiable, true, but there are crimes that dismayed more than others. Hurt, taken by surprise. As an ironic, while I prepared these popcorn (and just as explosive blast of these was at its height), my daughter put on your iPod songs of Victor Jara, another poet, another musician, who first shattered hands to break them and then killed him. My daughter knows that story (of course, a little less dense), but knows that the man who "did not sing to sing" was killed for speaking his mind. Surely he cold-blooded killer with such melodic memory carries in his hearing bullshit. Have died in Mexico lidercillos Pasito Duranguense bands and music that aberration to which today (with such impudence) listens and he is "dodgy" it at weddings and nightclubs, but ultimately, they are dudes who pander to narco and have a very long tail. Hear what the guys who kill a poet, a musician? I doubt that the murderers of Facundo Cabral have had any contact with his music, for he who kills with that cowardice is, without doubt, social rejection, a being petty and ignorant, never have been a mile or so does the word poetry (although there are murderers who kill their fans idol), but I think that is the case. The fanatic murderer-even that-act with more grace, with a nasty cold, but showing the face to attract attention and the spotlight (the case of Mark David Chapman) that killed so to steal a little glory to another poet, our beloved John Lennon. Today in the Plaza de Mayo are no tears, in all places in Latin America, both as there were in the football stadium in Chile and in the Dakota building in New York. Rest in Peace, Facundo Cabral peroque not do the murderers or the authorities (who as worldwide) seem to be a parasite to these atrocities . . Those who grew up between 70 and 80 and we've had close relationship with popular struggles against dictatorships in the soul hurts an event like this. I was born in Nicaragua, Sandinista and family as a child, went to Mexico. We returned to Nicaragua until the triumph of the revolution in the 79. In Mexico, I met many children and their parents who were Argentines, Chileans, Salvadorans and Nicaraguans, all "exiled children. " We made Mexico a second but hopefully not a first home, still looking towards the horizon and the culture of our parents. They took us to many of us likes concerts Quilapayún, Mercedes Sosa, Pablo and Silvio Mejia Godoy brothers and, of course, Facundo Cabral. These people created what was gradually forming our truth, our way of seeing, living, suffering the world. When you stick to the truth hurts. When you rip the truth, it burns when you kill one weeps the truth. But I have the consolation that you have built the truth. Absurd as it may seem, this horrendous death makes us believe that our truth is legitimate. "I mind my love '" asks Silvio Rodríguez. Apparently if anyone is still bothering people love, that we love, to love the truth. Neckebraquis Wilford, Nahum Salvador Flores, Emmanuel Rios Lopez, Sandra Pérez Posada, Jose Antonio Rios Rojo, Arturo Sánchez, José Luis López Duarte, Santiago Renteria. . . .