Lisa Corva

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Mira al cielo y su verde tatuaje de estrellas. (The spring, and you).

Friday, 28 February 2014 @07:31

"La tinta verde crea jardines, selvas, prados,
follajes donde cantan las letras,
palabras que son árboles,
frases que son verdes constelaciones.

Deja que mis palabras, oh blanca, desciendan y te cubran
como una lluvia de hojas a un campo de nieve,
como la yedra a la estatua,
como la tinta a esta página.

Brazos, cintura, cuello, senos,
la frente pura como el mar,
la nuca de bosque en otoño,
los dientes que muerden una brizna de yerba.

Tu cuerpo se constela de signos verdes
como el cuerpo del árbol de renuevos.
No te importe tanta pequeña cicatriz luminosa:
mira al cielo y su verde tatuaje de estrellas".
(Octavio Paz)

The spring, and you.

Octavio Paz was a Mexican poet and diplomat. Only in Mexico, or when you're in love, the sky can be green.

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The icy wind of our stars.

Friday, 21 February 2014 @09:48

"Über den weißen Weiher
Sind die wilden Vögel fortgezogen.
Am Abend weht von unseren Sternen ein eisiger Wind.

Über unsere Gräber
Beugt sich die zerbrochene Stirne der Nacht.
Unter Eichen schaukeln wir auf einem silbernen Kahn.

Immer klingen die weißen Mauern der Stadt.
Unter Dornenbogen
O mein Bruder klimmen wir blinde Zeiger gen Mitternacht".
(Georg Trakl).

The icy wind of our stars.

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All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.

Friday, 14 February 2014 @09:45

"All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt".
(Charles M. Schulz)
Or a heart-shaped chocolate, of course.

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Flowers and solitude and nature never fail one, she thought; they ask nothing and they are eternally comforting.

Friday, 7 February 2014 @10:28

"Flowers and solitude and nature never fail one, she thought; they ask nothing and they are eternally comforting."
(Stella Gibbons)
Comfort.

What else can comfort us, always? A book. Like the one by Stella Gibbons I just finished reading, "Westwood" (Vintage Books), a delicate story of love and longing set in London during the second world war. Growing up and discovering who you are, who you love, among the bombs. And the flowers.

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Lisa Corva

Yes, I write. Yes, I believe in the magic of words. That’s why you’ll find me here, every Friday: Lisa “globish”!

I believe in the magic of words, and I believe Piazza Unità in Trieste, where I was born, is the most romantic square in the world. (And yes, it’s in Italy, proudly facing the sea). I love roses in every form. And, of course, I do love my blog, expecially now that I can carry it around on my iPhone.