Tag Archives: Seeing

THE POETS

Posted on April 10, 2019 by Vladimir Nabokov

From room to hallway the candles passing glare is extinguished. She floats on imprinted dances, but in her fullest shape she is no longer there in the starless night of our blue-black branches. It’s time, we must leave – as … Continue reading →

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SONG OF THE STILL GARDENER

Posted on January 6, 2019 by Federico García Lorca

What you didn’t suspect was she lives trembling in the air. In a treasury of the day which you scarcely touch. Moments come and go laden with no one to look at them.

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THE KEEPER OF FLOCKS – XXVI

Posted on December 10, 2018 by Fernando Pessoa

If I do interrogate when I am astonishedNo new fresh flowers are born in the meadowsNor does it change anything in the sun so that it becomes more beautiful…(Even if fresh flowers were born in the meadowAnd the sun changed … Continue reading →

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THE KEEPER OF FLOCKS – XXIII

Posted on November 24, 2018 by Fernando Pessoa

My blue eyes are like the sky Which is calm like water in the sunlight. It is so, blue and calm, Because we don’t interrogate not even in astonishment…

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THE KEEPER OF FLOCKS – XLIV

Posted on November 21, 2018 by Fernando Pessoa

I suddenly wake up at night, And my watch occupies the whole night. I no longer feel Nature outside. My room is one dark thing with walls dimly white. Outside there is a stillness as if nothing exists. Only the … Continue reading →

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