18 quotes found
“Besides black art, there is only automation and mechanization.”
“A confused labyrinth of smoky starsentangles my hopes,which are nearly faded”
“My head is full of fireand grief and my tongueruns wild, piercedwith shards of glass.”
“…And my heart openedlike a flower under sky,its petals of desire,its stamens of dreams…”
“Don't ask me any questions. I've seen how things that seek their way find their void instead.”
“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.”
“The two elements the traveler first captures in the big city are extra human architecture and furious rhythm. Geometry and anguish.”
“But hurry, let's entwine ourselves as one, our mouth broken, our soul bitten by love, so time discovers us safely destroyed.”
“I know there is no straight road No straight road in this world Only a giant labyrinth Of intersecting crossroads”
“Verde que te quiero verde. Verde viento. Verdes ramas. El barco sobre la mar y el caballo en la montaña.”
“At five in the afternoon. It was exactly five in the afternoon. A boy brought the white sheet at five in the afternoon. A frail of lime ready prepared at five in the afternoon. The rest was death, ...”
“The artist, and particularly the poet, is always an anarchist in the best sense of the word. He must heed only the call that arises within him from three strong voices: the voice of death, with all...”
“Look at the longing, the anguish of a sad fossil world / that cannot find the accent of its first sob.”
“A light which lives on what the flames devour,a grey landscape surrounding me with scorch,a crucifixion by a single wound,a sky and earth that darken by each hour,a sob of blood whose red ribbon ad...”
“Everyone understands the pain that accompanies death,but genuine pain doesn't live in the spirit,nor in the air, nor in our lives,nor on these terraces of billowing smoke.The genuine pain that keep...”
“The little boy was looking for his voice.(The king of the crickets had it.)In a drop of waterthe little boy was looking for his voice.I do not want it for speaking with;I will make a ring of itso t...”
“El remanso de airebajo la rama del eco.El remanso del aguabajo fronda de luceros.El remanso de tu bocabajo espesura de besos.*The still waters of the airunder the bough of the echo.The still waters...”
“Yo me salgo desnudo a la calle,maduro de versos perdidos.I step naked into the streetripe with lost poems.”
