marklow posted:
“I once saw a tree turn its back on me and another time I saw a road turn its back on me. A back turned tree only grows where no one ever died or was born. A back turned road only advances through places where there have been all deaths and no births. The man mutilated by peace and by love, by an embrace and by order and who lives with a dead face above his living torso, was born in the shadow of a back turned tree and his existence takes place along a back turned road.”
-Cesar Vallejo, 1936.
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Notes from others: