Miguel Hernandez (1910-1942) Translated from the Spanish by Rhina P. Espaillat

What solitary distances, what sere, remote escarpments, what unbounded, wide eternities they are where you reside, in which no creatures of your hand appear! What desolated vistas, and how drear! Over clear pools, that solitude must bide, await your sowing like a holy bride, to cast off widowhood . . . . Continue Reading »