#antonio machado

[ardent-reflections]

A heart is made mature by darkness and art.

Antonio Machado

[besos-y-lagrimas]

[desorden-en-letras]

Antonio Machado

Frasess.net

[megairea]

And he was the demon of my dreams, the most handsome of all angels.

Antonio Machado, from “And he was the demon” (tr. by Robert Bly)

Erica Jong, from Lullaby for a Dybbuk

Rosalía de Castro, from “With his wave's soft persistent whisper” (tr. by Anna-Marie Aldaz, Barbara N. Gantt, Anne C. Bromley)

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Mt. Fuji (via orange_kuma)

* * * *

The Way

Wanderer, your footsteps are

the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking. By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path that never will be trod again. Wanderer, there is no road– Only wakes upon the sea.

-Antonio Machado

[vampire-yearner]

some pages from Antonio Machado's (1875-1939) journal/commonplace book

[lascitasdelashoras]

Manuscrito de Antonio Machado

[kamas-corner]

[liquidlightandrunningtrees]

The wind, one brilliant day, called to my soul with an odor of jasmine.

Antonio Machado

[sivavakkiyar]

We great men are always modest.

Antonio Machado

[somehow---here]

Mai cercai la gloria,

né di lasciare alla memoria

degli uomini il mio canto,

io amo i mondi delicati,

lievi e gentili,

come bolle di sapone.

Antonio Machado, versi estratti da Viandante

[ma-pi-ma]

No, che non dorme il mio cuore. È ben desto il cuore, è desto. Non dorme né sogna: è intento, aperti gli acuti occhi, a lontani segni ascolta agli orli del gran silenzio.

Antonio Machado

[dk-thrive]

Is my soul asleep?

Is my soul asleep? Have those beehives that work in the night stopped? And the water- wheel of thought, is it going around now, cups empty, carrying only shadows? No, my soul is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches, its eyes wide open far-off things, and listens at the shores of the great silence.

— Antonio Machado, "Is My Soul Asleep?" Translated by Robert Bly. The Soul Is Here for Its Own Joy Sacred Poems from Many Cultures.  (Ecco; July 9, 1999)

[megairea]

[…] sonorous fountain, eternal singer of the sleeping garden.

Antonio Machado, from “It was a clear evening” (tr. by Betty Jean Craige)

[dreams-of-mutiny]

Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking. By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path that never will be trod again. Wanderer, there is no road-- Only wakes upon the sea.

— Antonio Machado

[lascitasdelashoras]

Antonio Machado