Argentine Culture · Argentine Literature · Collection · Excerpt · Horror · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote · Short Stories

Alejandra Pizarnik

An unchangeable colour rules over the melancholic: his dwelling is a space the colour of mourning. Nothing happens in it. No one intrudes. It is a bare stage where the inert I is assisted by the I suffering from that inertia. The latter wishes to free the former, but all efforts fail, as Theseus would… Continue reading Alejandra Pizarnik

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Argentine Culture · Argentine Literature · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Prose Poetry

Alejandra Pizarnik

But don’t speak of gardens. Don’t speak of the moon. Don’t speak of roses or the sea. Speak of what you know. Speak of the thing that rings in the marrow, that plays in your eyes with shadow and light. Speak of the endless ache in your bones. Speak of vertigo. Speak of respiration and… Continue reading Alejandra Pizarnik

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Classic · Collection · Excerpt · Historical Fiction · Horror · Latin-American Culture · Latin-American Literature · Literature · Paraphrase · Poetry · Quote · Short Stories

Alejandra Pizarnik

Melancholia is, I believe, a musical problem: a dissonance, a change in rhythm. While on the outside everything happens with the vertiginous rhythm of a cataract, on the inside is the exhausted adagio of drops of water falling from time to tired time. For this reason the outside, seen from the melancholic inside, appears absurd… Continue reading Alejandra Pizarnik

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Classic · Excerpt · Latin-American Culture · Latin-American Literature · Poetry

Alejandra Pizarnik

Days when a distant word takes hold of me. I go through those days, sleepwalking and transparent. The beautiful wind-up doll sings to herself, charms herself, tells herself stuff and stories: a nest made of stiff thread where I dance and lament myself at my countless funerals. (She is her own blazing mirror, her spare… Continue reading Alejandra Pizarnik

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