En ello reflexiona Beatriz cuando recibe la inesperada carta de un asesino convicto, lector de una de sus novelas.
Translating Juana de Ibarbourou
Plagiadas, reales, ficticias, inventadas y robadas, Beatriz escribe sobre otras Beatrices. Sobre sus vidas posibles. Beatriz Rivas es, en realidad, muchas Beatrices.
- Ho scoperto che ti amo (Freeway) (Italian Edition);
- Conversaciones con María (Conversations with Mary Spanish edition).
- Publisher's Summary!
La amante del whisky y de vivir permanentemente enamorada. La mujer mil veces favorecida por el karma o por alguno de los tantos dioses en los que no cree. Product Details About the Author. Show More. Average Review. Write a Review. Related Searches.
La Hora Sin Diosas by Beatriz Rivas (2003, Paperback)
Muestra el mundo de View Product. Ahora, que calza mi planta ligera La sandalia viva de la primavera.
Antes que anochezca Y se vuelva mustia la corola fresca. Naked wind No sun, no rose, no sharp sword-grass, no open door in the deserted street. The bold wind, so alone.
La hora de las brujas / The Witching Hour by Anne Rice | okoheluvym.cf: Books
The grey wind, naked for sin or dream. The wind, cold and grim. My lover or my master. I shout: "Don't touch me! Alas, my winter flowers! Alas, the miserable nest, untouched in the ailing tree ravaged by cold!
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Strong, rough, and naked, the wind accompanies me, Oh, bitter impure wind, how you long to devour my insides! My cruel naked wind! Le grito: - No me toques. Mi cruel viento desnudo That makes me think too much of spearmint. I picture it as being like an iron plant. The waves If they wanted to, all the gulls on this beach could join their wings to make an airplane - or a ship - to carry me to some other shore Through the dense mystery of night we'd venture, skittering over the water.
With a scream of triumph, my gull-ship would alight on land and greet the dawn. Walking on virgin soil I'd hold out my hands to the rising sun like two newborn wings. Two wings, to lift me to a new life! From La Rosa de los vientos , I'm pretty pleased with this so far. The way I did the last two lines seems a bit bold, but I think I capture the spirit without having to say the same huge mouthful of syllables. Speaking of syllables, I think each poem has its own rhythm, even when it's not in a formal meter. Rhythm can be a movement or a feeling and I don't think it has to be duplicated formally in order to get across a feeling.
A rhythm in a Spanish line or sentence that seems grand, liquid and flowing, if duplicated exactly in English might just be wordy. Besides, I'm not good at formal meter. So I'll do it my way, and the people who love to make a perfect sonnet can re-translate to their own satisfaction! Words of a failed suicide to Death -or how about- A failed suicide's letter to Death For you I forsook plain bread, quiet milk, the shadow-dog and the singing choir, For you I forsook jasper and the sea-foam horse, The wind's church-organ, the homely weed.
To leave me like this, so eager and deluded, without your amber arm hugging me to your shoulder, while in the garden, this thunderstorm breaks the flower stalks, makes singers hoarse. To have a dry tongue, forked and burning to answer the angelic prayers that you repulse, and to become dark ice, when you could tell me, in a dream, just one innocent word.
The sleep that still won't ripen in my nerves, that won't lift its tranquil light to my brow, that won't nestle its moon in my breast, that won't show me the images of its blurry mirror. She of the rustling silks just doesn't want me now, [lively satin?
- You're here.
- Conversaciones con María (Conversations with Mary Spanish edition);
- Square Mile Bobbies.
- See a Problem?.
- Mensajes de amor, sanación, esperanza y unidad para todos.
- Audiobooks narrated by Francisco Rivela | okoheluvym.cf.
- Recovery and Wellness: Models of Hope and Empowerment for People with Mental Illness;
Probably important but i didn't consider it. Must go back and re-consider everything. Death is female? Or no? I think Juana would like my lush hyphenated made-up words. Las mujeres de la familia Mayfair no se rinden y tratan de comprender y destruir a esa misteriosa fuerza que ha mantenido siempre amenazadas a su familia. Y el hombre de ojos marrones hablaba sin mover los labios. Demonstrating once again her gift for spellbinding storytelling, Anne Rice makes real for us a great dynasty of four centuries of witches—a family given to poetry and incest, murder and philosophy, a family that over the ages is itself haunted by a powerful, dangerous, and seductive being called Lasher who haunts the Mayfair women.
Category: Spanish Language Fiction. Paperback —. Add to Cart.
Also by Anne Rice. Product Details. Inspired by Your Browsing History. Daniel Kehlmann and Daniel Kehlmann. Francisco Martin Moreno. Los ritos del agua. Elene Lizarralde. Thomas Harris. Danielle Steel. Edson Lechuga. Nuria Labari. David Foenkinos. Jose Manuel Del Rio. Morgan Scott.