Réplica
Un pájaro tan sólo canta. El aire multiplica. Oímos por espejos. __________________________________________ Only a single bird is singing. The air is cloning it. We hear through mirrors. — Federico García Lorca (trans. by Christopher Maurer)
Category: anthology
The Place Where We Are Right
From the place where we are right flowers will never grow in the spring. The place where we are right is hard and trampled like a yard. But doubts and loves dig up the world like a mole, a plow. And a whisper will be heard in the place where the ruined house once stood. … Continue reading The Place Where We Are Right
The Sound of Trees
I wonder about the trees. Why do we wish to bear Forever the noise of these More than another noise So close to our dwelling place? We suffer them by the day Till we lose all measure of pace, And fixity in our joys, And acquire a listening air. They are that that talks of … Continue reading The Sound of Trees
Two Tramps in Mud Time
from Two Tramps in Mud Time: But yield who will to their separation, My object in living is to unite My avocation and my vocation As my two eyes make one in sight. Only where love and need are one, And the work is play for mortal stakes, Is the deed ever really done For … Continue reading Two Tramps in Mud Time
white pebble 