rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Away

Overcast alternates with sunlight. The sky can't make up my mind, I can't make up my mind. My person has gone nowhere today, only my eyes casting gazes at distance and my ears listening for sounds indicating the far reaches of my world. My thoughts have escaped, though, and my blood I now suspect is envious and resentful. It sulks and thus feels sluggish to me. Dusk arrives at last and I go to the back yard and walk and hear the gravel crunch under my feet, and the dog over the back fence hears it too and barks twice. He is fenced inhis own yard. I guess he has no more to say than I do.



Sunday Verse


The Moon Rises


by Federico Garcia Lorca


When the moon comes up
the bells are lost
and there appear
unpenatrable paths.

    When the moon comes up
the sea blankets the earth
and the heart feels 
like an island ininfinity.

    No one eats oranges
under the full moon.
One must eat
cold green fruit.

    When the moon comes up
with a hundred equal faces,
silver money
sobs inthe pocket.


–translated by William B. Logan
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