Ýr me kero madre a yeruþalayim Mother, I want to go to Jerusalem A pizar las yervas i artarme d’eyas To walk and luxuriate in the grasses En el me arrimo yo I cleave to it En el m’afiguro yo I see myself in it El ez senyor de todo’l mundo It is the lord … More Ýr me kero
On Wednesdays we read for pleasure, and it is a fact that considering my profession I do not read enough new literature or theory, let alone do so for pleasure; it recently occurred to me, however, that reading randomly for pleasure is in fact research although it is too multidirectional to be called “work” in … More Salman Rushdie
The palm at the end of the mind, Beyond the last thought, rises In the bronze distance. A gold-feathered bird Sings in the palm, without human meaning, Without human feeling, a foreign song. You know then that it is not the reason That makes us happy or unhappy. The bird sings. Its feathers shine. The … More Of Mere Being
Si solamente me tocaras el corazón, si solamente pusieras tu boca en mi corazón, tu fina boca, tus dientes, si pusieras tu lengua como una flecha roja allí donde mi corazón polvoriento golpea, si soplaras en mi corazón, cerca del mar, llorando, sonaría con un ruido oscuro, con sonido de ruedas de tren con sueño, … More Barcarola
“We had you, but it was with doubts and then, misgivings.” “We cannot easily afford you, and we also know you are scheming to get our money.” “You are perfect.” “We do not believe you can be competent.” “You are the most intelligent person in the world.” “We love you because we have to, but … More Some of Their Themes in Those Days
It was a refusal of ventriloquism. One could say it was Didion’s “failure of nerves.” It also coincided, alas, with Reeducation’s distortions, Reeducation’s idea that nerves should fail. But far more fundamentally it was a refusal of ventriloquism. My attempt to interpret it as a “failure of nerves” in the sense of that senseless Reeducated … More Definitivamente
It is brilliantly sunny here, and cool and beautiful. The telephone rang, which it almost never does now since we e-mail and leave messages on cellular telephones. I was instantly transported to the twentieth century and indeed, it was a twentieth century person calling me — my yard man. He was at the plant store … More Neiges d’antan
It is the weekend, so we are singing! The Cuban son is the rhythm of life. Axé.
This novel will either be so derivative it is dull, or such an interesting metacommentary, it is fascinating. Or perhaps it will be somewhere in between. Anyway, I had gotten tired of Vargas Llosa, but this sounds interesting at least academically. Ya puedes leer un fragmento de la nueva novela de Vargas Llosa El sueño … More From the Casa del Libro: Vargas Llosa
All literature is foreign somehow, and all foreign literature, or literature written in foreign languages, and literature from other eras, is more foreign. The feeling of being in a struggle with someone else for — you, over you. The feeling of having to explain yourself, again and again. The feeling of having to explain really … More And So
coldhearted scientist وداد 