{"id":1818,"date":"2024-10-11T10:00:00","date_gmt":"2024-10-11T08:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/?p=1818"},"modified":"2024-10-09T16:56:59","modified_gmt":"2024-10-09T14:56:59","slug":"a-estacion-luisa-villalta","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/2024\/10\/11\/a-estacion-luisa-villalta\/","title":{"rendered":"A estaci\u00f3n. Lu\u00edsa Villalta."},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p>A ESTACI\u00d3N<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Onda n\u00f3s nunca pasan os trens.<br>s\u00f3 chegan ou parten.<br>Por iso tam\u00e9n somos n\u00f3s<br>a nosa \u00faltima estaci\u00f3n<br>o noso amor definitivo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As\u00ed podemos marchar<br>no \u00fanico sentido posibel<br>ou esperar o avalo dos viaxeiros<br>para sentirnos expandidos nas miradas extra\u00f1as<br>que chegan arrastrando as bambalinas do mundo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Onde n\u00f3s non hai nunca outro destino<br>que ser un an\u00f3nimo fin<br>ou un glorioso comezo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>M\u00e1is al\u00e1<br>m\u00e1is al\u00e1 somente o mar<br>e a incertidume da luz<br>o extremo<br>o abismo<br>o espello detido en n\u00f3s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>&nbsp;Villalta, L. (2004), <em>En<\/em>&nbsp;<em>concreto<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-embed-youtube wp-block-embed is-type-video is-provider-youtube wp-embed-aspect-4-3 wp-has-aspect-ratio\"><div class=\"wp-block-embed__wrapper\">\n<iframe title=\"&quot;Estaci\u00f3n&quot; de Luisa Villalta, m\u00fasica: C\u00e9sar Mor\u00e1n\" width=\"650\" height=\"488\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/pgVhF8qP7Gc?feature=oembed\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share\" referrerpolicy=\"strict-origin-when-cross-origin\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe>\n<\/div><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-embed-youtube wp-block-embed is-type-video is-provider-youtube wp-embed-aspect-16-9 wp-has-aspect-ratio\"><div class=\"wp-block-embed__wrapper\">\n<iframe title=\"Estaci\u00f3n  Luisa Villalta  m\u00fasica Sandra Tenreiro  Letras Galegas 2024\" width=\"650\" height=\"366\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/GWNCrVmkBZs?feature=oembed\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share\" referrerpolicy=\"strict-origin-when-cross-origin\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe>\n<\/div><\/figure>\n<!-- AddThis Advanced Settings generic via filter on the_content --><!-- AddThis Share Buttons generic via filter on the_content -->","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A ESTACI\u00d3N Onda n\u00f3s nunca pasan os trens.s\u00f3 chegan ou parten.Por iso tam\u00e9n somos n\u00f3sa nosa \u00faltima estaci\u00f3no noso amor definitivo. As\u00ed podemos marcharno \u00fanico sentido posibelou esperar o avalo dos viaxeirospara sentirnos expandidos nas miradas extra\u00f1asque chegan arrastrando as<span class=\"ellipsis\">&hellip;<\/span> <span class=\"read-more\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/2024\/10\/11\/a-estacion-luisa-villalta\/\">Read more &#8250;<\/a><\/span><!-- AddThis Advanced Settings generic via filter on get_the_excerpt --><!-- AddThis Share Buttons generic via filter on get_the_excerpt --><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1818"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1818"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1818\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1820,"href":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1818\/revisions\/1820"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1818"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1818"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bitaculas.as-pg.gal\/sondepoetas\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1818"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}