LXXIXWhen I die, I want your hands on my eyes.I want the light and wheat of your beloved hands to pass their freshness over me once moreLI want to feel the softness that changed my...

I am no longer in love with her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

So the freshness lives onin a lemon,in the sweet-smelling house of the rind,the proportions, arcane and acerb.

And the heart sounds like a sour conch,calls, oh sea, oh lament, oh molten panic,scattered in the unlucky and disheveled waves:the sea reports sonorouslyon its languid shadows, its green poppies.

I shivered in thosesolitudeswhen I heardthe voiceofthe saltin the desert.

With a chaste heart With pure eyes I celebrate your beautyHolding the leash of bloodSo that it might leap out and trace your outline Where you lie down in my Ode As in a land...

Las lágrimas que no se lloranesperan en pequeños lagos?O serán ríos invisiblesque corren hacia la tristeza?

Cuando estamos lejos de la patria nunca la recordamos en sus inviernos. La distancia borra las penas del invierno, las poblaciones desamparadas, los niños descalzos en el frío. El arte del recuerdo sólo nos trae...

But from each crime are born bullets that will one day seek out in you where the heart lies.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I...

I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring in your beauty.

Como se acuerda con los pajarosla traduccion de sus idiomas?How is the translation of their languages Arranged with the birds?

Soy un poeta sin ningún preceptopero digo, sin lástima y sin pena:no hay asesino bueno en mi concepto.

Joyful, joyful, joyful,as only dogs know how to be happywith only the autonomyof their shameless spirit.

So many days, oh so many daysseeing you so tangible and so close,how do I pay, with what do I pay?The bloodthirsty springhas awakened in the woods.The foxes start from their earths,the serpents drink the...

Escóndeme en tus brazospor esta noche sola,mientras la lluvia rompecontra el mar y la tierrasu boca innumerable.

I want to see the thirstinside the syllablesI want to touch the firein the sound:I want to feel the darknessof the cry. I wantwords as roughas virgin rocks.” – Verb.

It is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour which the night fastens to all timetables.

No, my dog used to gaze at me,paying me the attention I need,the attention requiredto make a vain person like me understandthat, being a dog, he was wasting time,but, with those eyes so much purer...

By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two together in their sleep will defeat the darkness

Then I speak to her in a language she has never heard, I speak to her in Spanish, in the tongue of the long, crepuscular verses of Díaz Casanueva; in that language in which Joaquín...

And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.

Tonight I can write the saddest linesI loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

The days aren’t discarded or collected, they are beesthat burned with sweetness or maddenedthe sting: the struggle continues,the journeys go and come between honey and pain.No, the net of years doesn’t unweave: there is no...

I hold a dramatic and romantic concept of life; What doesn’t touch my senses means nothing to me

Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente,y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca.Parece que los ojos se te hubieran voladoy parece que un beso te cerrara la boca..Como todas las...

I learned about lifefrom life itself,love I learned in a single kissand could teach no one anythingexcept that I have livedwith something in common among men.

And I, infinitesima­l being, drunk with the great starry void, likeness, image of mystery, I felt myself a pure part of the abyss, I wheeled with the stars, my heart broke loose on the wind.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

De noche, amada, amarra tu corazón al míoy que ellos en el sueño derroten las tinieblas

You came to my lifewith what you were bringing,madeof light and bread and shadow I expected you,and Like this I need you,Like this I love you,and to those who want to hear tomorrowthat which I...

Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.

Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde, te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo: así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera, sino así de este modo en que no...

Sufre mas el que espera siempreque aquel que nunca espero a nadie?Does he who is always waiting suffer more than he who’s never waited for anyone?

Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.

As if you were on fire from within.The moon lives in the lining of your skin.

Green was the silence, wet was the light,the month of June trembled like a butterfly.

He dormido contigoy al despertar tu bocasalida de tu sueñome dio el sabor de tierra,de agua

Yo te he nombrado reina.Hay más altas que tú, más altas.Hay más puras que tú, más puras.Hay más bellas que tú, hay más bellas.Pero tú eres la reina.Cuando vas por las callesnadie te reconoce.Nadie ve...

He vivido tanto que un díatendrán que olvidarme por fuerza.