El día toca a su fin. De la cumbre de un enorme risco baja el rebaño pastor garrido, que con pesadumbre toca en su quena un yaraví de antaño. El sol que lento cae, con su lumbre dá un tinte de misterio y de tristeza á un campo de solemne soledumbre. La aura pasa suave. … More Reading for Pleasure Wednesday: Soneto
The Smallest It is in front of the tree. The houses around the windows are lit by it, it turns off and goes upon knees and wherever the bone is almost next to the skin. It has been defamed. It will become undernourished. It is not without end. It is not. It is not what … More Reading for Pleasure Wednesday: James Schuyler
Hasta el día en que vuelva, de esta piedra nacerá mi talón definitivo, con su juego de crímenes, su yedra, su obstinación dramática, su olivo. Hasta el día en que vuelva, prosiguiendo, con franca rectitud de cojo amargo, de pozo en pozo, mi periplo, entiendo que el hombre ha de ser bueno, sin embargo. Hasta … More My Definitive Heel
It is really fun to be able to understand references like “Cuba y la noche” or any other literary allusion. We will therefore reproduce one poem which is already too famous. Dos patrias tengo yo: Cuba y la noche. ¿O son una las dos? No bien retira su majestad el sol, con largos velos y … More Cuba y la noche
Durmo. Se sonho, ao despertar não sei Que coisas eu sonhei. Durmo. Se durmo sem sonhar, desperto Para um espaço aberto Que não conheço, pois que despertei Para o que inda não sei. Melhor é nem sonhar nem não sonhar E nunca despertar. I remain in Brazilian captivity. It is January 1, 2010, and my … More Fernando Pessoa
Madre nuestra, esta mañana me he corrido con las hiedras, al ver la azul caravana de las piedras, de las piedras, de las piedras… –C.V. In the tropics, the ants arrive quickly, furiously, and voraciously to each new event. That is why the last scion of the Buendía tribe is always already being eaten by … More Reading for Pleasure Wednesday: The Ants
I would reproduce this painting by Juan Gris if I could, since it gives quite a good idea of the view from my current atelier on the Bay of All Saints. I like this atelier very much and I am tempted to think I should acquire a similar one here, if I could. I taught … More Juan Gris
What is poetry, and who is the poet, in this text? Que el verso sea como una llave Que abra mil puertas. Una hoja cae; algo pasa volando; Cuanto miren los ojos creado sea, Y el alma del oyente quede temblando. Inventa mundos nuevos y cuida tu palabra; El adjetivo, cuando no da … More Arte poética
It is winter, and key limes are thick on the branches. Garlic is blooming, and soon there will be bright kumquats. Picking oranges, seeing how the tree branches had bent under their weight, I realized that the globes on Christmas trees represent fruit. Every winter we quote from the Archpriest of Hita. This year we … More En hiver: Archpriest of Hita
It is the weekend, and I should be singing; but I am out of songs at the moment except for C.V.’s poem to be read and sung. I sing that the idea that you should somehow rise above an abusive workplace and produce is a malevolent and false truism. Of improvements made recently at work … More Home Improvement
coldhearted scientist وداد 