Antonio Porchia (–) wrote one book, a slender collection of poetic aphorisms that became a classic in the Spanish-speaking world. With affinities to . ANTONIO PORCHIA. From “Voices”. Some things become such a part of us that we forget them. I want because of what I wanted, and what I wanted, I wouldn’t. Voices by Antonio Porchia, published by Copper Canyon Press, a nonprofit publisher dedicated to poetry, bilingual edition.
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A great deal that I no longer continue in myself continues there on its own. Ser alguien es ser alguien solo. El dolor no nos sigue: Antohio a full heart there is room for everything.
Porque si entro no hay nadie. So that you will have everything.
Uno de los dos faltaba. And if you think you are nothing, you bear everything. Cuando no ando en las nubes, ando como perdido. You will be returned here automatically. When I break any of the chains that bind pocrhia, I feel that I make myself smaller.
Only the wound speaks its own word.
I want to be with you. I love for the sake of what I have loved, and viices I have loved I would not go back to loving.
Near me, nothing but distances. Today it is my farthest you. Truth has very few friends and those few are suicides. Hasta las flores, para emanar sus perfumes, han menester morirse un poco. Y es por ello que cada uno tiene sus cosas. I do not agree with you, but if you do not agree with yourself either, then I agree with you.
Voices – Antonio Porchia – Google Books
Because if I come in no one will be there. And I stayed like that: And if nothing is repeated in the same way, all things are last things. Before I traveled my road I was my road. External links [ edit porchiq. Merwin has provided a sensitive and accurate translation.
He who remains with himself for a long time, degrades. Una cosa sana no respira.
What we pay for with our lives never costs too much. You can owe nothing, if you give back its light to the sun. Mi cuerpo me separa de todo ser y de toda cosa. Man, when he is merely what he seems to be, is almost nothing. When the superficial wearies me, it wearies me so much that I need an abyss in order to rest. Of him who harms me it asks nothing. Y todo lo que vi no existe. And it seems to you that they have stopped loving you.
Copper Canyon Press: Voices, English translation of poetry by Antonio Porchia
Argentine authors Aphorists deaths. A veces creo que no existe todo lo que veo. Todos llevan a un punto de partida.
Y en aquel mundo, donde casi todos siguen a todos sin darse a nadie. What words say does not last. Sometimes I believe that evil is everything, and that good is only a beautiful desire for evil.
A veces, de noche, enciendo una luz, para no porcyia. My final belief is suffering.