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whose throbbing delicacy they attack with red teeth. And deep in the huge waters the enormous anaconda lies like the circle around the earth, covered with ceremonies of mud, devouring, religious. THE HEIGHTS OF MACCHU PICCHU, III (from the Spanish of Pablo Neruda) The human soul was threshed out like maize in the endless granary of defeated actions, of mean things that happened, to the very edge of endurance, and beyond, and not only death, but many deaths, came to each one: each day a tiny death, dust, worm, a light flicked off in the mud at the city's edge, a tiny death with coarse wings pierced into each man like a short lance and the man was besieged by the bread or by the knife, the cattle-dealer: the child of sea-harbors, or the dark captain of the plough, or the rag-picker of snarled streets: everybody lost heart, anxiously waiting for death, the short death of every day: and the grinding bad luck of every day was like a black cup that they drank, with their hands shaking. TRUMPETS (from the German of Georg Trakl) Under the trimmed willows, where brown children are playing And leaves tumbling, the trumpets blow. A quaking of cemeteries. SOME TRANSLATIONS 97 ...

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