.
Skid Row morning (woman in white boots) [Downtown Los Angeles]: photo by Andrew Murr, 27 March 2016
My kind of woman (San Leandro, California): photo by efo, 14 July 2016
Pablo Neruda: Los nacimentos
Nunca recordaremos haber muerto.
Tanta paciencia
para ser tuvimos
anotando
los números, los días,
los años y los meses,
los cabellos, las bocas que besamos,
y aquel minuto de morir
lo dejamos sin anotación:
se lo damos a otro de recuerdo
o simplemente al agua,
al agua, al aire, al tiempo.
Ni de nacer tampoco
guardamos la memoria,
aunque importante y fresco fue ir naciendo:
y ahora no recuerdas ni un detalle,
no has guardado ni un ramo
de la primera luz.
Se sabe que nacemos.
Se sabe que en la sala
o en el bosque
o en el tugurio del barrio pesquero
o en los cañaverales crepitantes
hay un silencio extrañamente extraño,
un minuto solemne de madera
y una mujer se dispone a parir.
Se sabe que nacimos.
Pero de la profunda sacudida
de no ser a existir, a tener manos,
a ver, a tener ojos,
a comer y llorar y derramarse
y amar y amar y sufrir y sufrir,
de aquella transición o escalofrío
del contenido eléctrico que asume
un cuerpo más como una copa viva,
y de aquella mujer deshabitada,
la madre que allí queda con su sangre
y su desgarradora plenitud
y su fin y comienzo, y el desorden
que turba el pulso, el suelo, las frazadas,
hasta que todo se recoge y suma
un nudo más el hilo de la vida,
nada, no quedó nada en tu memoria
del mar bravío que elevó una ola
y derribó del árbol una manzana oscura.
No tienes más recuerdo que tu vida.
Pablo Neruda (1904-1973): Los nacimientos, from Plenos Poderes, 1962,
Divers and fishermen carry the image of the Virgin of Palm as a girl touches it at El Rinconcillo beach during the yearly Virgin of Palm maritime pilgrimage in Algeciras, Spain: photo by Pablo Blazquez Dominguez, 16 August 2016
Divers and fishermen carry the image of the Virgin of Palm as a girl touches it at El Rinconcillo beach during the yearly Virgin of Palm maritime pilgrimage in Algeciras, Spain: photo by Pablo Blazquez Dominguez, 16 August 2016
Boys aboard an abandoned boat collect recyclable items through polluted waters in front of fishing boats at Fish Harbor in Karachi, Pakistan: photo by Akhtar Soomro/Reuters, 17 August 2016
Pablo Neruda (1904-1973): Los nacimientos (Births), from Plenos Poderes(Fully Empowered), 1962, translated by Alastair Reid
طلوع خورشد در دریای خزر:
Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
IRAN SHOMAL 1
Brooklyn 2017 / IMG_7026: photo by dirtyharrry, 20 March 2009
Broadway at Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
Broadway at Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
Broadway at Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
هنوز هم در تهران روح طبیعت زنده است و نفس می کشد.
photo by ali_pourian, 2 January 2009
paysage : collines, chemin de fer, echelles et mare crisum: photo lautrehidalgo, 7 April 2018
Looking north on Broadway at Times Square, 1949(detail): photo by Michael Ryerson, 6 April 2018
Looking north on Broadway at Times Square, 1949 (detail): photo by Michael Ryerson, 6 April 2018
#haveaniceday #sunset on the Mexican side of the US - Mexico border fence, at Playas de Tijuana, northwestern Mexico. Photo @ProyectoElCerco: image via Aurelia BAILLY @AureliuaBAILLY, 9 April 2018
We will never have any memory of dying.
The only thing you remember is your life.
Skid Row morning (woman in white boots) [Downtown Los Angeles]: photo by Andrew Murr, 27 March 2016
My kind of woman (San Leandro, California): photo by efo, 14 July 2016
My kind of woman (San Leandro, California): photo by efo, 14 July 2016
Pablo Neruda: Los nacimentos
Nunca recordaremos haber muerto.
Tanta paciencia
para ser tuvimos
anotando
los números, los días,
los años y los meses,
los cabellos, las bocas que besamos,
y aquel minuto de morir
lo dejamos sin anotación:
se lo damos a otro de recuerdo
o simplemente al agua,
al agua, al aire, al tiempo.
Ni de nacer tampoco
guardamos la memoria,
aunque importante y fresco fue ir naciendo:
y ahora no recuerdas ni un detalle,
no has guardado ni un ramo
de la primera luz.
Se sabe que nacemos.
Se sabe que en la sala
o en el bosque
o en el tugurio del barrio pesquero
o en los cañaverales crepitantes
hay un silencio extrañamente extraño,
un minuto solemne de madera
y una mujer se dispone a parir.
Se sabe que nacimos.
Pero de la profunda sacudida
de no ser a existir, a tener manos,
a ver, a tener ojos,
a comer y llorar y derramarse
y amar y amar y sufrir y sufrir,
de aquella transición o escalofrío
del contenido eléctrico que asume
un cuerpo más como una copa viva,
y de aquella mujer deshabitada,
la madre que allí queda con su sangre
y su desgarradora plenitud
y su fin y comienzo, y el desorden
que turba el pulso, el suelo, las frazadas,
hasta que todo se recoge y suma
un nudo más el hilo de la vida,
nada, no quedó nada en tu memoria
del mar bravío que elevó una ola
y derribó del árbol una manzana oscura.
No tienes más recuerdo que tu vida.
Pablo Neruda (1904-1973): Los nacimientos, from Plenos Poderes, 1962,
Divers and fishermen carry the image of the Virgin of Palm as a girl touches it at El Rinconcillo beach during the yearly Virgin of Palm maritime pilgrimage in Algeciras, Spain: photo by Pablo Blazquez Dominguez, 16 August 2016
Divers and fishermen carry the image of the Virgin of Palm as a girl touches it at El Rinconcillo beach during the yearly Virgin of Palm maritime pilgrimage in Algeciras, Spain: photo by Pablo Blazquez Dominguez, 16 August 2016
Boys aboard an abandoned boat collect recyclable items through polluted waters in front of fishing boats at Fish Harbor in Karachi, Pakistan: photo by Akhtar Soomro/Reuters, 17 August 2016
Boys aboard an abandoned boat collect recyclable items through polluted waters in front of fishing boats at Fish Harbor in Karachi, Pakistan: photo by Akhtar Soomro/Reuters, 17 August 2016
Births
We will never have any memory of dying.
We were so patient
about our being,
noting down
numbers, days,
years and months,
hair, and the mouths we kiss,
and that moment of dying
we let pass without a note --
we leave it to others as memory,
or we give it simply to water,
to water, to air, to time.
Nor do we even keep
the memory of being born,
although to come into being was tumultuous and new;
and now you don’t remember a single detail,
and haven’t kept even a trace
of your first light.
It’s well known that we are born.
It’s well known that in the room
or in the wood
or in the shelter in the fisherman’s quarter
or in the rustling canefields
there is a quite unusual silence,
a grave and wooden moment as
a woman prepares to give birth.
It’s well known that we were all born.
But of that abrupt translation
from not being to existing, to having hands,
to seeing, to having eyes,
to eating and weeping and overflowing
and loving and loving and suffering and suffering,
of that transition, that quivering
of an electric presence, raising up
one body more, like a living cup,
and of that woman left empty,
the mother who is left there in her blood
and her lacerated fullness,
and its end and its beginning, and disorder
tumbling the pulse, the floor, the covers,
till everything comes together and adds
one knot more to the thread of life,
nothing, nothing remains in your memory
of the savage sea which summoned up a wave
and plucked a shrouded apple from the tree.
The only thing you remember is your life.
We were so patient
about our being,
noting down
numbers, days,
years and months,
hair, and the mouths we kiss,
and that moment of dying
we let pass without a note --
we leave it to others as memory,
or we give it simply to water,
to water, to air, to time.
Nor do we even keep
the memory of being born,
although to come into being was tumultuous and new;
and now you don’t remember a single detail,
and haven’t kept even a trace
of your first light.
It’s well known that we are born.
It’s well known that in the room
or in the wood
or in the shelter in the fisherman’s quarter
or in the rustling canefields
there is a quite unusual silence,
a grave and wooden moment as
a woman prepares to give birth.
It’s well known that we were all born.
But of that abrupt translation
from not being to existing, to having hands,
to seeing, to having eyes,
to eating and weeping and overflowing
and loving and loving and suffering and suffering,
of that transition, that quivering
of an electric presence, raising up
one body more, like a living cup,
and of that woman left empty,
the mother who is left there in her blood
and her lacerated fullness,
and its end and its beginning, and disorder
tumbling the pulse, the floor, the covers,
till everything comes together and adds
one knot more to the thread of life,
nothing, nothing remains in your memory
of the savage sea which summoned up a wave
and plucked a shrouded apple from the tree.
The only thing you remember is your life.
Pablo Neruda (1904-1973): Los nacimientos (Births), from Plenos Poderes(Fully Empowered), 1962, translated by Alastair Reid
KHAZAR 1
طلوع خورشد در دریای خزر:
photo by ali_pourian, 25 March 2009
" Le sondable, le tarmiser en mots ": photo by lautrehidalgo, 30 March 2018
Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
IRAN SHOMAL 1
این عکس مربوط به شمال ایران است و بطور کاملاً طبیعی
photo by ali_pourian, 22 March 2009Brooklyn 2017 / IMG_7026: photo by dirtyharrry, 20 March 2009
Broadway at Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
Broadway at Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
Broadway at Times Square, 1949: photo by Michael Ryerson, 7 April 2018
DERAKHT HA DAR TEHRAN
هنوز هم در تهران روح طبیعت زنده است و نفس می کشد.
گاهی باید با دقت به اطرافمان نگاه کنیم تا زندگی را احساس کنیم.
photo by ali_pourian, 2 January 2009paysage : collines, chemin de fer, echelles et mare crisum: photo lautrehidalgo, 7 April 2018
Looking north on Broadway at Times Square, 1949(detail): photo by Michael Ryerson, 6 April 2018
Looking north on Broadway at Times Square, 1949 (detail): photo by Michael Ryerson, 6 April 2018
#haveaniceday #sunset on the Mexican side of the US - Mexico border fence, at Playas de Tijuana, northwestern Mexico. Photo @ProyectoElCerco: image via Aurelia BAILLY @AureliuaBAILLY, 9 April 2018
ספינת הטילים USS Donald Cook עזבה את נמל לרנקה בקפריסין ונמצאת 100 קמ מחוף טרטוס בסוריה. על הסיפון 56 טילי טומהוק. האם זו תיהיה התגובה האמריקאית למתקפה הכימית.: image via nir dvori @ndvori,, 9 April 2018
אחרי שמכרה לקרואטיה ישראל מציעה מטוסי אף 16 מיושנים שברשותה מדגם A/B לקולומביה. אמורים להחליף את מטוסי הכפיר שמכרה לה ישראל בשנות ה-90:image via nir dvori @ndvori,, 9 April 2018
#Gaza : Les protestations à la frontière israélo-palestinienne à la Une sur Photo @saidkhatib / #AFP @AFPphoto: image via Jade Montane1 @jmontane_AFP 1.48 AM 10 April 2018
Thousands of Palestinians in Gaza prepare to continue protests for the right of return despite Israeli gunfire - "I am here to restore my lost rights. I want to return to Palestine.": image via The IMEU @theIMEU, 5 April 2018
"The high number of deaths and injuries [in Gaza] was the foreseeable consequence of granting [Israeli] soldiers leeway to use lethal force outside of life-threatening situations in violation of international norms"--Human Rights Watch: image via The IMEU @theIMEU, 6 April 2018
Palestinian photojournalist Khalil Abu Adhara was shot by Israeli forces during the Great Return March in Gaza today. Israeli forces are actively firing explosive bullets at Palestinian protesters.: image via The IMEU @theIMEU, 6 April 2018
فلسطينين يحملون مصاب اثناء المواجهات في خانيونس جنوب قطاع An injured #Palestinian protestor is carried by fellow demonstrators during clashes with Israeli security forces following a demonstration calling for the right to return in #gaza: image via said khatib @saidkhatib, 9 April 2018
Mourners hold back a relative during the funeral for Palestinian Hamdan Abu Amshah, who was killed along the Gaza-Israel border: image via Reuters Pictures @reuterpictures, 7 April 2018
U.S. Border Patrol agent Sergio Ramirez apprehends immigrants who illegally crossed the border from Mexico into Texas @Lelliottphoto: image via Reuters Pictures @reuterspictures, 7 April 2018
We will never have any memory of dying.
The only thing you remember is your life.