I have returned on my steps often, mainly to reread forgotten, almost isolated authors in the halo of the academic halls, in the dusty shelves, visited only by the hands of the wind and distracted and idle glances. It is not my case, I must say it in plain language, but also without vanity. I go every day to the humble enclosure where I locate in alphabetical symmetry all the books that I have acquired with the years. Behind a text row, of recent data, shady and melancholic I could see an analogy of excelso writer, philosopher, thinker, poet and Basque educator Miguel de Unamuno. With delight we entered ourselves in the pages of shone poemario, the something yellow and fragile already as a result of the passage of the implacable time that with its scythe harvests all it, it dilutes all it, it corrupts and it vanishes. Extasiados in the reading of the most representative verses of its poetries, Rosary of Sonetos Lyrical, the Christ de Velasquez, Spanish Fates and Visions, Rhymes of Inside, Romance of the Exile, enters other many, we were before a piece of little extension and apparent intimate simpleza: Domestic incident. In order to compose the poetic piece, hand throws gift Miguel of free verses, to describe with cosy meekness a happened incident while it behind schedule gave to his wise reflections and their small daughter jugueteaba with paper and pencil seated on his feet in anyone. Equal free verses that its thought, wings to the wind on pastures of mature wheat, on the wild one to break of the waves, sliding enters plumes of the recent grass, between the trunks of the trees and the rustic presence of the beasts of the field. This feeling of liberation and independence seduces the closed spirit when facing the reading of this dawn of future visions more.