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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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