Lord

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There was an English child protected by the fortune of his family who, just after turning ten, inherited the title of Lord and at that same age already occupied a permanent chair in the room of lords.

As if that were not enough, at that early age he had already been sexually initiated and his love career was going to surpass all possible expectations, with all kinds of lovers of both genders, and of the most varied conditions, without excluding his relatives.

This boy, so precocious, was called George Gordon Byron and the world of literature knew him as Lord Byron, poet of passions and extreme energies.

Byron, the poet and the man who never saved emotions, risked his life in a crazy race in the midst of adventures and gallantries, amidst dreams, ambitions and conflicts.

Byron, who had been born in the cradle of gold and protected by aristocratic titles, was loved by English society, thanks to his gifts as a brilliant and sensitive poet.

But that same society ended up expelling him when his love behavior began to disrupt marriages and hurt the collective modesty, and accusations of incest and sodomy fell on his name.

Byron, then, established distance with his world and left England to seek new horizons in other European lands.

Byron is remembered for his adventurous life, for his romantic footprint and for his short and heroic actions, because he died fighting for Greece, to free it from the Turks.

Byron was born on a day like today, January 22, 1788. And we remember him with his poems of romantic ancestry, and when he told us that:

"When I talk to people I do it just to recover my need for solitude"

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This story was originally written by my friend Ramiro Díez in Diario EL TELÉGRAFO under the following address: http://www.radiolavida.com/ramirodiez/22-de-enero/#sthash.3KHtJkQh.dpbs If you are going to use it, please quote our source and place a link to the original note. www.eltelegrafo.com.ec