We fall down the stairs in order to eat the moist earth
or we climb to the knife edge of the snow
with the voices of the dead dahlias.
But forgetfulness does not exist,
dreams do not exist;
flesh exists.
Kisses tie our mouths in a thicket of new veins,
and whoever his pain pains will feel that pain forever
and whoever is afraid of death will carry it on his shoulders.”
—
Federico Garcia Lorca
I often go through phases regarding my taste in literary styles, however, poetry has and will always be a constant. Lorca is a magnificent Spanish play write and poet. His pieces consistently show cunning brilliance from their supposed innocence and simplicity.
