Sherry Chandler » Lorca
Lorca
…Agony, agony, dream, ferment, and dream.
This is the world, my friend, agony, agony.
Bodies decompose beneath the city clocks,
war passes by in tears, followed by a million gray rats,
the rich give their mistresses
small illuminated dying things,
and life is neither noble, nor good, nor sacred.
— from Federico Garcia Lorca “Ode to Walt Whitman”
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