Poet in New York

Don’t ask me anything. I’ve seen that things find their void when they search for direction. There is a sorrow of holes in the unpeopled air and in my eyes-clothed creatures.

Federico García Lorca, ‘Poet in New York‘.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s