To Marianne Moore (Carlos Barbarito Poem)
If the idea of immortality is excluded, there remains dust, grass, water that forms puddles, the branch from which the ...
If the idea of immortality is excluded, there remains dust, grass, water that forms puddles, the branch from which the ...
Behind, perhaps, let the sea blow. Let some word blow outside every destination of slime, rust. Perhaps ointments from Avicenna, ...
It does not matter in what language one writes. All language is foreign, incomprehensible. Every word, as soon as pronounced, ...
Nothing grows except the grass. Nothing leaps into sight except some stone and what the stone contains and protects. Here, ...
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