Beyond the heavens, he honed that turns gold in fall accurately March. Oh, Romero Murube. In the Triana bridge streetlights light trap three children tired, timid. Claim caged partridges announce the next miracle surround and fertile, rather than lubricate devour daily. But martyrdom they run. It's coming. Check that the sunsets are forgotten now lie. The street looks warmth. Man would be saved from death. Perhaps that is why her sister pace with what feels eternal, as the light of March where Eve laughs.
Posted at No. 35 of the magazine Passion in Seville, for ABC.
Text: Antonio Cattoni
Photo: José Javier Rodríguez Comas
The blog where it fuses the human and the divine in the form of photography. Where Sevilla is the key, traditions, innovation, beliefs, and anything that escapes the eye of man, since the aim of J. Javier Rodríguez Comas ... 
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