Category Archives: Post War
Novoneyra is the poet of O Courel. Here he writes about the wolf.
Ó Longo das Ribeiras Along the water’s edge, in longing I go, my girl. Where are the boats and flowers? The rivers no longer flow anywhere. The far distance and the sea don’t exist. Everything is here … Continue reading
Iglesia Alvariño- As CarballeirasOh, my girl, how dark the rustlingour footsteps make in the oak grove!Our feet go sinking happilyin the soft leaves, amongst the ferns.And the wood fills up with happiness,an old friend to soulful young men.Now they are … Continue reading
Wolf stuff boar gorge lone places no one’s been or will go. The wolf! The eyes the back of the wolf! The wolf comes down the wood’s eye moving the yewtree branches rustling along leafy paths seeking the most isolated … Continue reading
-Slender little spinner always at your spinning always spinning and dreaming in the end to come to nothing. -In the end to come to nothing, that has still to be seen since with the linen threads as I twist them … Continue reading
I’m not asking where you are taking me Nor your reasons Nor your destination. You want to walk? Well, I’ll follow. I’m carrying morning stars, morning stars in my right hand And night stars Night stars in my right. Tell … Continue reading