January 2012
10 posts
Ce jeu excitant
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Yo soy el arbol
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Madrugada
Pero como el amor los saeteros están ciegos. Sobre la noche verde las saetas, dejan rastros de lirio caliente. La quilla de la luna rompe nubes moradas y las aljabas se llenan de rocío. !Ay, pero como el amor los saeteros están ciegos!
— Federico García Lorca
“Sometimes you just really
need to stay up late.”
Another Spring
The seasons revolve and the years change With no assistance or supervision. The moon, without taking thought, Moves in its cycle, full, crescent, and full.
The white moon enters the heart of the river; The air is drugged with azalea blossoms; Deep in the night a pine cone falls; Our campfire dies out in the empty mountains.
The sharp stars flicker in the tremulous branches; The lake is black,...
September 2011
3 posts
August 2011
32 posts
September 2010
3 posts
August 2010
3 posts
