Oh mi niño, muerto ignorado. Cuando pasaba nuestra locura. Tu carne estaba helada y desnuda como para ser enterrado. Santo tallado en piedra dura. A quien hubiese, mi inocente, …
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LOVE POEM THERE is always something to be made of pain. Your mother knits. She turns out scarves in every shade of red. They were for Christmas, and they kept …
A MYTH OF DEVOTION WHEN HADES DECIDED he loved this girlhe built for her a duplicate of earth,everything the same, down to the meadow,but with a bed added. Everything the …
Dos sonetos de Tommaso Campanella, traducción de Maximiliano Sauza Durán.
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