Category Archives: Post War
In Death’s Wake
Eduardo Blanco Amor- poet of love and longing Continue reading
Iglesia Alvariño- O Longo das Ribeiras
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
The Oak Wood
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
Novoneyra- Wolf Stuff
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
Uxío Novoneyra- Os Eidos
-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
Carmen Conde- I’m not asking where you’re taking me
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
My friend, my lover
My friend: well then, they asked me Asked after you and my sadness Though it’s true you weren’t taken Taken by earth or by sea Nor even the happy breeze. My friend: it’s true, I was sad Just because you … Continue reading
Álvaro Cunqueiro- The Enchanted Island
There is an enchanted island Away in the deeps of the sea With oxen the colour of weather And shepherd girls made of glass. The isle has a river of birds That open their mouths in song- Sad island birds … Continue reading
Celso Emilio Ferreiro- Longa Noite de Pedra
Long Night of Stone In my path there is a stone I have a stone in the middle of the path I have a stone In the middle of the path I have a stone. (Carlos Drummond de Andrade) The … Continue reading
Ramón Otero Pedrayo- Bocarribeira
Dead men’s deaf clogs Os zocos zordos dos mortos Walk over Friars’ Bridge: trepan na Ponte dos Frades: They are not river froth, non son escumas do río. On the twisted pathways- nos amieiros retortos The groans of sleep and … Continue reading
