Food and drink inspired by classic and modern literary works.
The latest episode of my podcast “Cooking The Books” just dropped and it’s a good one! We’re talking South American politics, poetry, and the joys of the humble and sensual tomato, so check it out at:
Horror, Photography and Frivolity
Researching, investigating, and writing about the paranormal.
Writing and Reading
so many recipes, so little time . . .
In an infinite multiverse, there is no such thing as fiction. —Scott Adsit
Talking about great books while enjoying tasty libations!
...reincarnation, cats, pop culture and beer...
Good food doesn't have to be difficult...
Celebrating what makes Brittany unique
Myths, legends, folklore and tales from around the world
Looking for thoughtful discussions about books and beverages? Well, you've come to the right place.
seasonal and simple recipes for the novice home cook
Scorpio Queen & Whatever in between
Sharing unique and tasty recipes made from home.
Food In Books 
fuckin’ fuck-bombing (fuckin’ works fuckin’ well with fuckin’ Shakespeaare, by the fuckin’ way. Fuckin’ try it: To fucking be or fucking not to fucking be, that fucking is the fucking question…) fuckin anyway….fuckin’ ode to fuckin’ tomatoes (Though I get the you-rolling stuffed t-dish, I’d do a ‘pappa al pomodoro’ tuscan not chilean but as a plate-ode to tomato. And tuscany is one of the older red regions in the world, I suppose.) …. just in fuckin’ case your fuckin’ poem fuckin’ aversion fuckin’ hasn’t fuckin’ let fuckin’ you fuckin’ to fuckin’ this (fuckin’ becquer), you fuckin’ might fuckin’ like fuckin’ it/his fuckin’ words, fuckin’ not fuckin’ translatable as fuckin’ most of fuckin’ poetry fuckin’ is…
Volverán las oscuras golondrinas
en tu balcón sus nidos a colgar,
y otra vez con el ala a sus cristales
jugando llamarán.
Pero aquellas que el vuelo refrenaban
tu hermosura y mi dicha a contemplar,
aquellas que aprendieron nuestros nombres…
¡esas… no volverán!
Volverán las tupidas madreselvas
de tu jardín las tapias a escalar,
y otra vez a la tarde aún más hermosas
sus flores se abrirán.
Pero aquellas, cuajadas de rocío
cuyas gotas mirábamos temblar
y caer como lágrimas del día…
¡esas… no volverán!
Volverán del amor en tus oídos
las palabras ardientes a sonar;
tu corazón de su profundo sueño
tal vez despertará.
Pero mudo y absorto y de rodillas
como se adora a Dios ante su altar,
como yo te he querido…; desengáñate,
¡así… no te querrán!
Trans. Allison Young (1924)
Dusky swallows again will come
Upon thy balcony their nests to swing,
And tap their wings upon thy window- panes
In playful fluttering;
But those which slackened in their flight,
Thy beauty and my fortune their con- cern;
Those which even came to know our names…
Those…will ne’er return!
Twining honeysuckle will come
Again thy garden wall to clamber o’er,
And spread again upon the air its blossoms,
Fairer than all before;
But those, bediamonded with dew,
Whose drops we two were wont to watch aquiver
And fall, as they were tears of limpid morning…
Those…will come back never!
Burning words of love will come
Again full oft within thine ears to sound;
Perchance thy heart will even be aroused
From its sleep profound;
But mute and prostrate and absorbed,
As God is worshipped in His holy fane,
As I have loved thee…undeceive thyself:
Thou wilt not be thus loved again!
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This was fucking marvelous! Seriously!!! That’s a beautiful poem in both languages. Fuck yeah!! 😉
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I love Neruda’s poetry!
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Thank you! Me too.
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