In my poems I could not shut the door to the street.
Rise up with me against the organisation of misery.
My soul wandered, happy, sad, unending.
I like for you to be still, and you are still far away.
You should know that I don’t love you and that I love you.
I have named you queen. There are taller than you, taller. There are purer than you, purer. There are lovelier than you, lovelier. But you are the queen. When you go through the streets No one recognizes you. No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks At the carpet of red gold That you tread as you pass, The nonexistent carpet. And when you appear All the rivers sound In my body, bells Shake the sky, And a hymn fills the world. Only you and I, Only you and I, my love, Listen to it.
Put aside your mantles of mourning, join all your tears until you make them metal: for.
Each morning, each turbid morning of your lives you will have it steaming and burning at your tables: so as not to see it, not to digest it so many times: you will push it aside a bit between the bread and the grapes, this bowl of silent blood that will be there each morning, each morning. A.
From one hell to another, what difference? In the howling of your legions, in the holy milk of the mothers of Spain, in the milk and the bosoms trampled along the roads, there is one more village, one more silence, a broken door. Here.
Ognuno ha una favola dentro che non riesce a leggere da solo. Ha bisogno di qualcuno che con la meraviglia e l’incanto negli occhi, la legga e gliela racconti.
The dove signifies the dove and the guitar signifies a musical instrument called the guitar.
The night is starry, and she is not with me. That is all.
Let us look for secret things somewhere in the world, on the blue shore of silence or where the storm has passed, rampaging like a train...
But my words become stained with your love. You occupy everything, you occupy everything.
El agua anda descalza por las calles mojadas.
You fill everything, you fill everything.
I want to fill my mouth with your name.
I love the handful of the earth you are. Because of its meadows, vast as a planet, I have no other star. You are my replica of the multiplying universe.
ALWAYS Facing you I am not jealous. Come with a man at your back, come with a hundred men in your hair, come with a thousand men between your bosom and your feet, come like a river filled with drowned men that meets the furious sea, the eternal foam, the weather. Bring them all where I wait for you: we shall always be alone, we shall always be, you and I, alone upon the earth to begin life.
Perhaps not to be is to be without your being.
I adore my own lost being, my imperfect substance.