Spain Photographer

Circular E.S.

From the country where the sun is light
Flows from the sky burning and bright,
I brought myself a gift
Couple of ringing castanets.
Restless, talkative,
Beating a resounding verse, —
From dry olive breast
Steel cut them.
Generously dressed with ribbons
With this southern diversity:
They live in the Spanish heat,
In them is hidden a piece of the world.
And when Paris is huge
All dressed in fog,
On a cloudy evening, on the sofa
I'll lie in the dark attic,
And remind me of her
And the waves of the sea twists,
And a trembling beam at the bottom,
And a knotty olive trunk,
The evening in the room simple,
The gray silhouette of a witch,
And the beautiful dancer
Mill both flexible and lively,
The dance is fast, the voice ringing,
Graceful and simple,
From this South, from this thin
Dragonfly beauty.
And the dancers are in a row,
Bathed in red light,
And guitars say
To the beat of the crackling castanets,
Like the clicking of cicadas
In the searing midday in the hot summer.

Photographer photographer Music Art Draughtsman