Flee Bites On A Dogs Belly With Black In It

dance with you in Vienna

It is love that saves and kills. For it one is locked in a room that will not go out and dreams that will never end the kiss. García Lorca is saved New York-than symbol, and the metropolis itself and knows:

In Vienna there are ten girls,

a shoulder to cry on death

and forest of dried pigeons.

There is a fragment of the morning

in the museum of winter frost,

There is a lounge with a thousand windows.

The Little Viennese Waltz (dated February 13, 1930) of Poet in New York there is so much commitment and much strength in the expression of the union of love and death that has elevated to a Category art the simplest and repeated declaration of love:

I love you I love you, love you,

with the armchair and the book of death,

the melancholy hallway,

in the dark attic of the lily,

in our bed

moon and dance the turtle dreamed of.

is inevitable harbinger of death the loving, hence the bias is tragic that almost all love Lorca. The interesting thing is that I get to the mystery of the everyday - the chair, the book, the hallway, the attic, the bed - adjectives whose meaning is deepened so precisely dream - book of death, melancholy hallway, loft lily moon bed -. Therefore, the kiss of the beloved repeated in the mirrors (what a find!)

In Vienna there are four mirrors

where your mouth and play echoes

shown parallel to the death for piano / that paints little boys blue . Lorca again manages to recreate the simple declaration of love to take the mystery of the essence, that shows us as being destined to die:

Because I love you I love you, my love,

in the attic where children play,

dreaming ancient lights of Hungary

by rumors of the balmy afternoon,

seeing sheep and irises of snow

through the dark silence of your forehead.

Love, like life itself if lived with passion, never ignored the tragic dimension of death without that duality that must be lived with sadness, but with absolute dedication of assuming his mortality. This subject, as treated by the English baroque, here is freed from traditional morality to enter fully into the surreal dimension you want to delve into the very identity of our lives. Expressed This circular waltz rhythm , a waltz so painfully tragic that when reading easy to understand that all the short dimension of the biography of a person's worth if you find that finding, the love, of death and knows how to look directly its potential significance:

dance with you in Vienna

a costume that has

river head.

See what I have hyacinth shores!

I will leave my mouth between your legs,

my soul in photographs and lilies,

and in the dark wake of your footsteps

want, my love, my love, leave,

violin and grave, the waltzing ribbons.

only way truly deserves punishment say I love you, with high awareness of death. After all that remains is thrown into the river everything you have to spare. The rest can not be love but something else.