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Aloft... by Tonyç

Aloft...

In Black

[ Slideshow ]


Cómo comer sin ti...

¿Cómo comer sin ti, sin la piadosa
costumbre de tus alas
que refrescan el aire y renuevan la luz?
Sin ti, ni el pan ni el vino,
ni la vida, ni el hambre, ni el jugoso
color de la mañana
tienen ningún sentido ni para nada sirven.
Allá fuera está el mar.
Allá fuera, en el mundo, estás tú.
Comiendo tú sin mí:
tu hambre, tu pan, tu vino y tu mañana.
Yo aquí, ante los manteles opacos
y la bebida amarga,
ante platos sin sabor ni colores.
Lo intento, sí, lo intento, pero cómo
comer sin ti, ni para qué...
Tú te has llevado tu olor a bosque
y el gusto de la vida.
Fuera están mar y aire.
Dentro, yo solo frente a la mesa puesta
que ha perdido su voz y su alegría...

Antonio Gala






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Uploaded on Jan 6, 2010  |  Map

1 note / 95 comments

The evening darkens over... by Tonyç

The evening darkens over...

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Anyone can see this photo All rights reserved

Uploaded on Jan 5, 2010  |  Map

6 comments

The color of your eyes... by Tonyç

The color of your eyes...

In Black

To see...





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Anyone can see this photo All rights reserved

Uploaded on Jan 5, 2010

49 comments

Looking for a blue world... by Tonyç

Looking for a blue world...

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[ Slideshow ]

A veces...

A veces cuando era
temprano todavía para verte
o cuando la ventana
se abría a la distancia y al sonido
de tanto hierro puesto y tanta arena
que cruje a tierra extraña en los caminos
remoto a la esperanza
me volvía a aquel sitio en que dejamos
las soledades juntas y las voces.

Te hallaba limitada
de corazón disperso y de alegría
por todos los costados y flotando
en la noche segura y abundante
que nunca se consuma.

Sin embargo a lo lejos
tan pronto me acogías con los nombres
de las cosas comunes, en sigilo
sentía que tu isla no estaba ya a mi alcance.

Entonces por entero
reincorporado al límite del cuerpo
volvía a la certeza de la espera.

Carlos Barral



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Uploaded on Jan 4, 2010  |  Map

2 notes / 440 comments

The dock of the bay... by Tonyç

The dock of the bay...

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Taking the leap

[ Slideshow ]


Fabulous things, stars.
When I was a child, I suffered from insomnia.
Summer nights, my parents permitted me to sit by the lake;
I took the dog for company.
Did I say "suffered"? That was my parents' way of explaining
tastes that seemed to them
inexplicable: better "suffered" than "preferred to live with the dog."
Darkness. Silence that annulled mortality.
The tethered boats rising and falling.
When the moon was full, I could sometimes read the girls' names
painted to the sides of the boats:
Ruth Ann, Sweet Izzy, Peggy My Darling-
They were going nowhere, those girls.
There was nothing to be learned from them.
I spread my jacket in the damp sand,
the dog curled up beside me.
My parents couldn't see the lift: in my head;
when I wrote it down, they fixed the spelling.
Sounds of the lake. The soothing, inhuman
sounds of water lapping the dock, the dog scuffling somewhere
in the weeds...

Louise Glück









Anyone can see this photo All rights reserved

Uploaded on Jan 4, 2010  |  Map

2 notes / 583 comments


Portfolio
8 comments

Portfolio

356 photos


gettyimages
1 comment

gettyimages

11 photos


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