“I've often lost myself,in order to find the burn that keeps everything awake”

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.”

“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 keeps everything awakeis a tiny, infinite burnon the innocent eyes of other systems.”

“The round silence of night,one note on the staveof the infinite.Ripe with lost poems,I step naked into the street.The blackness riddledby the singing of crickets:sound,that deadwill-o'-the-wisp,that musical lightperceivedby the spirit.A thousand butterfly skeletonssleep within my walls.A wild crowd of young breezesover the river.- Hour of Stars (1920)”

“Angel and Muse approach from without; the Angel sheds light and the Muse gives form (Hesiod learned of them).  Gold leaf or chiton-folds: the poet finds his models in his laurel coppice. But the Duende, on the other hand, must come to life in the nethermost recesses of the blood.”

“My head is full of fireand grief and my tongueruns wild, piercedwith shards of glass.”

“Variación / Variations"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 of the waterunder a frond of stars.The still waters of your mouthunder a thicket of kisses.”