This city doesn't have a name.

el cielo claro y
los ojos limpios
mantenían
el corazón tan blanco
como no escribir ningún poema

+

acariciar los barcos.

There is a lot to be sad about
But no point in feeling that sadness
In a world that has no capacity
To take your sadness from you in a kind way

(Dorothea Lasky)

‎The novelist -it is his distinction and his danger- is terribly exposed to life. (...) the novelist never forgets and is seldom distracted.
(Virginia Woolf, Essays vol. IV, "Life and the novelist")

El presente no concibe el dolor.

Lo que importa son los sentimientos, no los hechos. Son los que construyen historias. El resto: la excusa.

(Traducción de Música para el viaje de Alberto Augusto)