November 22, 2024 1:09 am

POETRY

TWO HAPPY LOVERS – Poetry by Pablo Neruda

DOS AMANTES DICHOSOS > Dos amantes dichosos hacen un solo pan, una sola gota de luna en la hierba, dejan andando dos sombras que se reúnen, dejan un solo sol vacío en una cama. De todas las verdades escogieron el día: no se ataron con hilos sino con un aroma, y no despedazaron la paz ni las palabras. La dicha …

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TINY TWILIGHTS – Poetry by Laureano Albán

LOS INFIMOS CREPUSCOLOS > Amo las cosas que gastadas brillan como si los crepúsculos se hubieran quedado en ellas para siempre ardiendo. Los bordes de las sillas afinados por la devoción clara de los dedos. Los vasos transparentes de servir manantiales destantes. Los pisos sometidos a la sombra. Los trajes deshilados por el aire. Amo su fatigada servidumbre de diamante …

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I DO NOT KNOW FOR SURE – Poetry by Jaime Sabines

YO NO LO SE DE CIERTO > Yo no lo sé de cierto, pero supongo que una mujer y un hombre un día se quieren, se van quedando solos poco a poco, algo en su corazón les dice que están solos, solos sobre la tierra se penetran, se van matando el uno al otro. Todo se hace en silencio. Como …

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MY SOUL – Poetry by Nazim Hikmet

MY SOUL My soul, close your eyes slowly, and as you immerse yourself in the water sinks into sleep, naked and dressed in white, the most beautiful of dreams will welcome you. My soul, close your eyes slowly you abandoned as over my arms, do not forget me in your sleep, close your eyes slowly, your brown eyes where a …

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THE STORY OF OUR LIVES 1/7 – Poetry by Mark Strand

THE STORY OF OUR LIVES 1/7 We are reading the story of our lives, which takes place in a room. The room looks out on a street. There is no one there, no sound of anything. The trees are heavy with leaves, the parked cars never move. We keep turning the pages, hoping for something, something like mercy or change, …

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THE THINGS – Poetry by Jorge Luis Borges

THE THINGS The coins, the stick, the keychain, the quick lock, the later notes that they can not read my few days, playing cards and chess board, a book and the pages dried violet, monument of a certain evening unforgettable and forgotten, the red in the west mirror in which burns illusory an aurora. How many things, atlases, lime, thresholds, …

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THE POISON – Poetry by Charles Baudelaire

THE POISON The wine can play the most sordid hovel, with a marvelous luxury, and raises more than a fabulous porch, in the gold of its red vapor like a setting sun, in a cloudy sky. Open this opium that which has no boundaries, stretches the unlimited, makes deep time, increases pleasure, and pleasures dark and gloomy fills the soul, …

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THOSE YOUR ORANGES HAIR – Poetry of Paul Eluard

THOSE YOUR ORANGES HAIR Those your hair orange in the emptiness of the world, in the empty glass heavy with silence and shadow, where with bare hands I try every your reflection. Chimerical is the shape of your heart, and my desire to lose your love looks like. Oh sighs of amber, dreams, glances. But not always you have been …

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SHADOWS – Poetry by Henrik Nordbrandt

SHADOWS So I thought of you and I have written so much about you, not to know who you were. In so many rooms I slept, without you by my side, and many are the houses in which I lived, without you. There are many cities where I met you. There are many things that I need, or lost due …

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WORDS IN THE FORM OF CLOUD OF DUST – Poetry by Octavio Paz

WORDS IN THE FORM OF CLOUD OF DUST I open the window overlooking anywhere. The window that opens inward. The wind lifts snapshots mild, towers of dust swirling. They are higher than this house. They are within this paper. Fall and get up. Before you say anything, to fold the sheet disperse. Whirlwinds of echoes aspirated, inspired by their own …

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