trilobites

Jan 23

(via rawpleasures)

Jan 22

[video]

Jan 17

“Smise di scrivere: non aveva più niente da nascondere.” —

Emil Cioran 

(via liamdestroy)

(Source: nonlasciarmi, via progvolution)

Jan 15

[video]

Jan 12

Dec 30

[video]

[video]

Dec 29

“

Ex voto

Accade
che le affinità d’anima non giungano
ai gesti e alle parole ma rimangano
effuse come un magnetismo. É raro
ma accade.

Puó darsi
che sia vera soltanto la lontananza,
vero l’oblio, vera la foglia secca
piú del fresco germoglio. Tanto e altro
puó darsi o dirsi.

Comprendo
la tua caparbia volontà di essere sempre assente
perchè solo così si manifesta
la tua magia. Innumeri le astuzie
che intendo.

Insisto
nel ricercarti nel fuscello e mai
nell’albero spiegato, mai nel pieno, sempre
nel vuoto: in quello che anche al trapano
resiste.

Era o non era
la volontà dei numi che presidiano
il tuo lontano focolare, strani
multiformi multanimi animali domestici;
fors’era così come mi pareva
o non era.

Ignoro
se la mia inesistenza appaga il tuo destino,
se la tua colma il mio che ne trabocca,
se l’innocenza é una colpa oppure
si coglie sulla soglia dei tuoi lari. Di me,
di te tutto conosco, tutto
ignoro.

” —

Eugenio Montale

[ via Esterhazy ]

(via ferrugnonudo)

(via umanesimo)

membrane:

 #1-2 : Atacama Desert / Chile / #3 : Parada 4 / Brava Beach / Punta del Este / Uruguay / Source

Dec 28

i12bent: Federico Garcia Lorca: Casida of the Clusters The leaden dogs have come through the groves of the Tamarit waiting for the branches to fall, waiting for them to break themselves apart. The Tamarit has an apple-tree with an apple of weeping. A nightingale gathers sighs a pheasant chases them through the dust. But the branches are happy, the branches are like us. They are not thinking about rain. Suddenly, as if they were trees, they are sleeping. Sitting in water up to their knees, two valleys wait for the Fall. With an elephant’s tread, darkness comes pushing aside the branches and the trunks. There are many children with hidden faces in the groves of the Tamarit waiting for my branches to fall, waiting for them to break themselves apart. —- Carlos Amantea, Translator Photo: Lorca in the bosom of his family…

i12bent:

Federico Garcia Lorca: Casida of the Clusters

The leaden dogs have come
through the groves of the Tamarit
waiting for the branches to fall,
waiting for them to break themselves apart.

The Tamarit has an apple-tree
with an apple of weeping.
A nightingale gathers sighs
a pheasant chases them through the dust.

But the branches are happy,
the branches are like us.
They are not thinking about rain.
Suddenly, as if they were trees, they are sleeping.

Sitting in water up to their knees,
two valleys wait for the Fall.
With an elephant’s tread, darkness comes
pushing aside the branches and the trunks.

There are many children with hidden faces
in the groves of the Tamarit
waiting for my branches to fall,
waiting for them to break themselves apart.

—- Carlos Amantea, Translator

Photo: Lorca in the bosom of his family…