…how abstract thy harvest rose doth fall, consigned to the flames of woe in sweet modesty…
What hope to consider, what pure foreboding, what definitive kiss to bury the heart, to submit to the origins of homelessness and intelligence, smooth and sure over the eternally troubled waters? What vital, speedy wings of a new dream angel to install on my sleeping shoulders for perpetual security, in such a way that the [...]
…Parfumata, tăcuta, încîlcita pădure chiliană se află pretutindeni, la poalele vulcanilor, lîngă creasta muntelui, acoperită de greţuri şi zăpezi, printre marile lacuri… Picioarele se afundă în covorul de frunze moarte,, o creangă trozneşte, enormii raulies îşi înalţă spre cer coroana lor creaţă, răcoarea pădurii este străbătută de o pasăre ce bate din aripi, apoi se [...]
Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth, wine, smooth as a golden sword, soft as lascivious velvet, wine, spiral-seashelled and full of wonder, amorous, marine; never has one goblet contained you, one song, one man, you are choral, gregarious, at the least, you must [...]
The weary one, orphan of the masses, the self, the crushed one, the one made of concrete, the one without a country in crowded restaurants, he who wanted to go far away, always farther away, didn’t know what to do there, whether he wanted or didn’t want to leave or remain on the island, the [...]
It was the twilight of the iguana: From a rainbowing battlement, a tongue like a javelin lunging in verdure; an ant heap treading the jungle, monastic, on musical feet; the guanaco, oxygen-fine in the high places swarthed with distances, cobbling his feet into gold; the llama of scrupulous eye widens his gaze on the dews [...]
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color of a savage harvest, hunger for the pale stones of [...]
“…Un drac împieliţat acest Alvaro… Acum se numeşte Alvaro de Silva… Locuieşte la New York… Aproape întreaga viaţă şi-a petrcut-o în jungla new-yorkeza… Mi-l amintesc mîncînd portocale la ore de-a dreptul ofensatoare, aprinzîndu-şi ţigara, punînd întrebări jignitoare la aproape jumătate din locuitorii globului… A fost dintotdeauna un maestru al dezordinei, cu o inteligenţă sclipitoare şi [...]
There are cemeteries that are lonely, graves full of bones that do not make a sound, the heart moving through a tunnel, in it darkness, darkness, darkness, like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves, as though we were drowning inside our hearts, as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul. [...]
Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips: maybe it was the voice of the rain crying, a cracked bell, or a torn heart. Something from far off it seemed deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth, a shout muffled by huge autumns, [...]
I am the Pablo Bird, bird of a single feather, a flier in the clear shadow and obscure clarity, my wings are unseen, my ears resound when I walk among the trees or beneath the tombstones like an unlucky umbrella or a naked sword, stretched like a bow or round like a grape, I fly [...]
