Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · German Culture · German Literature · Inspirational · Modernism · Motivational · Poetry · Spiritual

Rainer Maria Rilke

You Who Never Arrived You who never arrived in my arms, Beloved, who were lost from the start, I don’t even know what songs would please you. I have given up trying to recognize you in the surging wave of the next moment. All the immense images in me — the far-off, deeply-felt landscape, cities,… Continue reading Rainer Maria Rilke

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Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Excerpt · Existentialism · Latin-American Culture · Latin-American Literature · Mexican Culture · Mexican Literature · Passage · Poetry · Surrealism

Octavio Paz

                    I am where I was: I walk behind the murmur, footsteps within me, heard with my eyes, the murmur is in the mind, I am my footsteps, I hear the voices that I think, the voices that think me as as I think them. I am the shadow my words cast. — Octavio Paz,… Continue reading Octavio Paz

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Classic · Excerpt · Fiction · German Culture · German Literature · Novel · Paraphrase · Passage · Philosophy · Quote

Hermann Hesse

Once it happened, as I lay awake at night, that I suddenly spoke in verses, in verses so beautiful and strange that I did not venture to think of writing them down, and then in the morning they vanished; and yet they lay hidden within me like the hard kernel within an old brittle husk.… Continue reading Hermann Hesse

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Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry · Russian Culture · Russian Literature

Arseny Tarkovsky

I don’t believe in omens or fear Forebodings. I flee from neither slander Nor from poison. Death does not exist. Everyone’s immortal. Everything is too. No point in fearing death at seventeen, Or seventy. There’s only here and now, and light; Neither death, nor darkness, exists. We’re all already on the seashore; I’m one of… Continue reading Arseny Tarkovsky

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Chilean Culture · Chilean Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry · Prose Poetry

Pablo Neruda

Even in memory, I am terrified by those solitudes! When foul weather is unleashed in that part of the world, the rain seems kin to the devil; the waters of the river and the sea and sky couple, bellowing. A forsaken land where even letters arrive wilted, withered by distances, where hearts petrify and are… Continue reading Pablo Neruda

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Elegy · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry

Patrick Phillips

It’s not the drug I miss but all those minutes we used to steal outside the library, under restaurant awnings, out on porches, by the quiet fields. And how kind it used to make us when we’d laugh and throw our heads back and watch the dragon’s breath float from our mouths, all ravenous and… Continue reading Patrick Phillips

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Jorge Luis Borges

When writers die they become books, which is, after all, not too bad an incarnation. ― Jorge Luis Borges [As attributed by Alastair Reid in “Neruda and Borges,” The New Yorker, June 24, 1996; as well as in “The Talk of the Town,” The New Yorker, July 7, 1986]

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry

Bob Hicok

The most vital surprise came after, as we talked and she made not the slightest move to clothe or cover, an openness effecting ease, allowing anything to be said, when we lolled for hours in the afternoon light, through dusk, until night, when I could no longer tell where her body ended or words began.”… Continue reading Bob Hicok

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