Todos sabemos que Tina escribe, hagámosla hacer un poema. En el siguiente ejemplo hay una función que funciona como `line()` las cuales te permiten escribir renglones y con `by()` para añadir ¡Tu nombre como autor!. ``` import turtle tina = turtle.Turtle() tina.shape('turtle') tina.penup() def line(words, horiz_pos = -50): x,y = tina.pos() tina.goto(max(horiz_pos, -190), y) tina.write(words) x,y = tina.pos() tina.goto(x, y - 25) def by(author): x,y = tina.pos() tina.goto(x + 70, max( -190, y -30)) tina.write(author) x,y = tina.pos() tina.goto(0, y) tina.goto(-50, 190) line("Snow in my shoe") line("Abandoned") line("Sparrow's nest") by("Jack Kerouac") ``` Sigue añadiendo renglones hasta que tu poema se vea de la manera que quieras y compárte el enlace (![Screen Shot 2014-09-28 at 3.25.55 PM.jpg]( "Screen Shot 2014-09-28 at 3.25.55 PM.jpg")) o envia un correo electrónico (![Screen Shot 2014-09-28 at 3.26.11 PM.jpg]( "Screen Shot 2014-09-28 at 3.26.11 PM.jpg")) tus amigos! Pista: * Empieza reemplazando los renglones que ves escritos dentro de `line()`. * Si tu poema necesita más de tres renglones, añade uno nuevo utilizando `line()`. * Si necesitas que tus líneas empiecen la izquierda por que estan muy largas, añade una coma (`,`) y un número negativo que no se vaya menos de -200: ```python line("Esta linea ira hasta la izquierda", -190) ``` ## Poemas Populares ¿Sientes que no puedes escribir un poema? Utiliza los siguientes poemas de escritos por autores famosos. Sólo **copia** y **pega** en vez de hacerlo desde el principio. #### Emily Dickinson "Hope" is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm— I've heard it in the chillest land— And on the strangest Sea— Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of Me. #### Frederick Douglass When it is finally ours, this freedom, this liberty, this beautiful and terrible thing, needful to man as air, usable as earth; when it belongs at last to all, when it is truly instinct, brain matter, diastole, systole, reflex action; when it is finally won; when it is more than the gaudy mumbo jumbo of politicians: this man, this Douglass, this former slave, this Negro beaten to his knees, exiled, visioning a world where none is lonely, none hunted, alien, this man, superb in love and logic, this man shall be remembered. Oh, not with statues’ rhetoric, not with legends and poems and wreaths of bronze alone, but with the lives grown out of his life, the lives fleshing his dream of the beautiful, needful thing. #### e.e. cummings it may not always be so; and i say that if your lips,which i have loved,should touch another’s,and your dear strong fingers clutch his heart,as mine in time not far away; if on another’s face your sweet hair lay in such silence as i know,or such great writhing words as,uttering overmuch, stand helplessly before the spirit at bay; if this should be,i say if this should be— you of my heart,send me a little word; that i may go unto him,and take his hands, saying,Accept all happiness from me. Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands #### Federico Garcia Lorca Cirio, candil, farol y luciérnaga. La constelación de la saeta. Ventanitas de oro tiemblan, y en la aurora se mecen cruces superpuestas. Cirio, candil, farol y luciérnaga.


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