José Ángel Valente, who was unable to help us recover this was also his.
A Armando Fernández Mazas, he would have liked to see it.
AIDA, because he lives and lives in her memory.
Where? Allende. Land beyond, our land. And beyond beyond, and beyond Allende.
To Plant here how or what seed?
José Ángel Valente
The road runs from A Rua in Petín between streams, cliffs cistus and carrascos, abrupt roquedales trajectory balanced on the chasms, thick brush heather and gorse, rivulets in capricious course falling free from the peaks, clearings slate a living heart. Continue reading “Drados in invernía”