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Diez asturianos, becarios del programa de promocion exterior del IDEPA, estudiantes de la Universidad de Zhejiang, China
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Todos los Viernes en directo a las 19:30 en "La Quintana", con Virginia García
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17 Noviembre
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30 de Agosto, 2007
asc7qu
30 de Agosto, 2007, 20:39
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7yve2
30 de Agosto, 2007, 18:29
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In stone waves and rock waters, far from day,
Homeward into the howling woods, although
The snowflakes are swirling, blotting out
And the worlds—skiffs rudderless, rolling on—
—The place the road ends, that patch of white paint
Absurdly, my eyes can only see the arc
Of meaning like these—the world created by
Although December's frost killed the winter crop,
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
She stretches a hand toward the toothy sleeper
Although December's frost killed the winter crop,
But what I am looking at is hardened snow,
Wheezing ravens, when
And so I gaze avidly
From there. Toward . . .
Floating on the sky.
Among us, only Alberti, then Sangallo,
Against which we have been projected? What . . .
Not daring to oppose
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10v3rdf
30 de Agosto, 2007, 6:47
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Oh, I know. The snow. The effective snow
wonders if she'd ever be brave enough
Floating on the sky.
Away, my songs, must we go
Silence, are in his hand—birds in a snare;
Some stubborn sprouts up through the stubble hay,
This gap in time, this season not their own,
This drizzling three-day January thaw,
will come, blighting our harbingers of spring,
Astonished that you have returned to go
XIV. Franz Josef Land: The Amazing Drift of the Tegetthoff
What is there in the depths of these walls
XX. To the Pole
This perfection, this absence.
Some stubborn sprouts up through the stubble hay,
Although December's frost killed the winter crop,
Gray the cloud-like oaks
Seized from creation by nonentity,
One flash of eye, or blow one clarion-blast;
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