gacela - Popular Poems and stories from category

Each afternoon in Granada,each afternoon, a child dies
Each afternoon the water sits downand chats with its companions
The dead wear mossy wings
The cloudy wind and the clear windare two pheasants in flight through the towers,and th...

I want to sleep the sleep of the apples,
I want to get far away from the busyness of the cemeteries
I want to sleep the sleep of that childwho longed to cut his heart open far out at sea
I don't want them to tell me again how the co...