Translations of a series of Spanish poems by different writers based around guitars and music
the voices of seagulls deceive mariners / they don’t signal how close soil is / but only warn the unlucky travellers
I come from the race of potters. / I, their breath, an artisan of the earth. / I gather the smithereens from the soil
Cups and plates and mugs and bowls line the cupboards of most of the houses in the little town of Braunton.
Reading the pages in which Borges goes over the traditions of time, I decided to learn about the work of one Carlos Bruno, of whom he talked in some passages.
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