ANTONIO PORCHIA VOICES PDF
Antonio Porchia (–) wrote one book, a slender collection of poetic aphorisms that became a classic in the Spanish-speaking world. With affinities to . ANTONIO PORCHIA. From “Voices”. Some things become such a part of us that we forget them. I want because of what I wanted, and what I wanted, I wouldn’t. Voices by Antonio Porchia, published by Copper Canyon Press, a nonprofit publisher dedicated to poetry, bilingual edition.
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Cuando no creo en nada, no quisiera encontrarme contigo, cuando no crees en nada. Y si cree ser nada, soporta todo.
The porcgia that bind us most closely are the ones we have broken. If I were to give you life, what else could I give you? When I’m content with nothing is when I’m content with antonil. Post a review for Voices This feature requires that you first log in or create an account if you do not already have one. Copper Canyon Press- Literary Collections – pages. Cuando no se quiere lo imposible, no se quiere. Some things become so completely our own that we forget them.
Not even of himself. Let it fall and you will pick it up.
He always gave himself to everyone without following anyone. It is porchja degrading to fear than to be feared. El matador de almas no mata cien almas; mata una alma sola, cien veces.
Aphorisms by Antonio Porchia – Poems | Academy of American Poets
Por ello te pido todo. Tu dolor es tan grande que no debiera dolerte. And if nothing is repeated in the same way, all porchja are last things. Before I traveled my road I was my road. Man, when he does not grieve, hardly exists. My dignity asks him who does me no harm to do me no harm. There is no other good.
Eres un fantoche, pero en las manos de lo infinito, que tal vez son tus manos. Hablo pensando que no debiera hablar: He is the author of dozens of books antknio poetry and translations. I live, to get out of what I live through.
Todos llevan a un punto de partida. If it is wakened it takes the form of the waker. Quise alcanzar lo derecho por sendas derechas. Estoy en el ayer, en el hoy.
My voice tells me: You can owe nothing, if you give back its light to the sun. Of him who harms me it asks nothing. The confession of one humbles all. After having suffered everything. When one does not love the impossible, one does not love anything.
La pena humana, durmiendo, no tiene forma. If you are good to this one and that one, this one and that one will say you are good. You tell yourself a dream, always. Certainties are arrived at only on foot. It was the sea and I. No descubras, que puede no haber nada. Knowing how to die costs a lifetime.
Se me abre una puerta, entro y me hallo con cien puertas cerradas. Out of hundred years, a few moments were made that stayed with me, not a hundred years. Se vive con la esperanza de llegar a ser un recuerdo.
Cada uno creo que sus cosas no son como todo las cosas de este mundo. They are like me, I tell myself. Yes, it is necessary to suffer, even in vain, so as not to live in vain. Maybe I will come back in an instant. They are all alike. Injury, when it is slight, upsets me; when it is strong, it calms me. Revised and updated with a new introduction by translator W. Todo es un poco de oscuridad, hasta la misma luz.
And I have been a good disciple but a bad master. My body separates me from all beings and all things. It’s a continuous dream. Read, highlight, and take notes, across web, tablet, and phone.