“Revel in the open country of my wound, break apart its reeds and delicate rivulets, drink from my thigh my pouring blood.”
— Federico García Lorca, [trans. Paul Archer] from Sonnets of Dark Love; Sonnet of the garland of roses.
meta name="reverberation" content=""Then, what is Life?" I said . . . the cripple cast / His eye upon the car which now had rolled / Onward, as if that look must be the last, / And answered .... "Happy those for whom the fold / Of ... " .glitch { position: relative; } .glitch::after { content: attr(data-text); }
“Revel in the open country of my wound, break apart its reeds and delicate rivulets, drink from my thigh my pouring blood.”
— Federico García Lorca, [trans. Paul Archer] from Sonnets of Dark Love; Sonnet of the garland of roses.
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