The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
For Luis Cardoza y Aragón To take the wrong roadis to arrive at snowand arriving at snowis to graze for centuries on graveyard weeds. To take the wrong roadis to arrive at woman,woman fearless of light,woman who kills two cockerels…
As soon as there’s a full moon, I’ll go to Santiago, Cuba,I’ll go to Santiagoin a coach of black water.I’ll go to Santiago.Palm roofs will sing.I’ll go to Santiago.When the palm tree wants to be a stork,I’ll go to Santiago.And…
(From the Tower of the Chrysler Building) Apples with flesh-woundsmade by slender silver swords,clouds slashed by a coral hand,a fire-filled almond on its back,arsenic fish like sharks,sharks like tear-drops to blind a multitude,roses that woundand needles lodged in the blood’s…
In the end the moon could stay on the horses’ blinding white curve.A ray of violent light escaping from the woundshot the instant of a dead boy’s circumcision into the sky.Blood flowed down the mountain and the angels searched it…
With a spoonhe scooped out crocodiles’ eyesand whacked monkeys’ backsides.With a spoon. The fire of forever slept in the flintsand beetles drunk on anisforgot the village moss.The old mushroom-covered manwent to where the blacks weptwhile the king’s spoon crackledand tanks…
To Margarita Manso ‘What is that gleamingon the high galleries?’‘My son, close the door,eleven has just struck.’‘Four unwelcome lampsshine in my eyes.’‘The people there must bescouring copperware.’ * Garlic of dying silverthe waning moon placesheads of yellow hairon the yellow…
To José Antonio Rubio Sacristán Voices of death soundedby the Guadalquivir.Ancient voices encirclinga virile carnation voice.His boar’s teethclamped themselves to their boots.In the fight his leapswere slippery as dolphins.He soaked his crimson tiein his enemy’s bloodbut there were four daggersand…
To Margarita Xirgu Antonio Torres Heredia,son and grandson of Camborios,holding a willow-switchis going to Seville to see the bulls.Dark as a green moonhe walks. Unhurried. With style.His curls’ peacock sheenglints between his eyes.Midway through his journeyhe cut some round lemonsand…
To Jose Moreno Villa Silence of myrtle and lime.Wild mallow in fine grass.The nun embroiders wallflowerson a straw-coloured cloth.The seven birds of the prism flitamongst the greyness of the chandelier.The church growls in the distancelike a stricken bear.How well she…
To Gloria Giner and Fernando de los Rios Green how I want you green.Green wind. Green branches.Boat on the seaand horse on the mountain.Shadow at her waistshe dreams at her railing,green flesh, green hair,and eyes of cold silver.Green how I…