Tag Archives: Asturianu
Xosé Manuel Valdés- Lisbon
When one goes to a foreign country amongst people, buildings, pigeons, statues of people one doesn’t know the air is somehow more breathable and it is as if they took from your feet some thousand-year-old leaden boots. It’s as though … Continue reading
Following Lot
I can hear at my back the crying of the children, I take with me the words of the dead, I ask myself right now if the beds are not even cold yet how can I not turn and look … Continue reading
Berta Piñán- The Pig
Every day we would go down to feed the pig. As the months went by we vaguely began to learn its destiny. Obstinate and repetitive, it always seemed to us closer to the nature of men, and just as each … Continue reading
David de San Andrés- the Mirror
The Mirror in your face with grey hair: in your unbitten mouth: in your gaze with cataracts: and in your 56 years that weigh on you is reflected every … Continue reading
Ruben D’Areñes- Scars
Scars I look at my own naked body made up of back-borne years that I count inexactly with scars. They are like clouds or the froth of a coffee, looking like things, some change depending on the day. They are … Continue reading
The Cold Solitude of Statues
On the Cold Solitude of Statues I Expect me in the empty streets of this silent nocturnal hour. Inside the thick fog which wraps up the statues, on their useless lips. Expect me on the cold frost caressing the stone … Continue reading
Elías Veiga- Robinson Astur
Last Tuesday The men from the council Put out Three waste containers Next to the church. It’s about time Now there’s hardly anyone left In the village: Four pensioners With an old cow And four chickens. All the young men … Continue reading
