Yo quisiera poder escribirles, Un poema tan largo como mi vida, Sin que la inspiración me faltara, La que proviene de más arriba... Mas estos poemas que he escrito, Con mi vida tienen poca relación, Y de alguna manera un cúmulo son, De las inquietudes de mi corazón. Yo no soy ni escritor, ni poeta, A pesar de que escribo poemas, Que no son de la norma a seguir, Ni ajustados a literatura concreta. Mas es éste, mi terco corazón, Que no se cansa de soñar y de cantar... ¿Y cómo esos sueños habría de perder, Si ellos son los que me invitan a vivir? Seguro mil errores aquí ha de haber, Y muchas reglas de escritura sin seguir, Y ni siquiera las medidas se tomaron, Por eso los poemas se descuadraron. Y como digo: aclaro que mis poemas, Son una antología de mi corazón, Y que sin haber nacido yo poeta, Me arriesgué a irrumpir en la vocación.

The magic of Andalusia is crystallized in Federico Garcia Lorca's first major work, Poem of the Deep Song, written in 1921 when the poet was twenty-three years old, and published a decade later. In this group of poems, based on saetas, soleares, and siguiriyas, Lorca captures the passionate flamenco cosmos of Andalusia's Gypsies, ""those mysterious wandering folk who gave deep song its definitive form. Cante jondo, deep song, comes from a musical tradition that developed among peoples who fled into the mountains in the 15th century to escape the Spanish Inquisition. With roots in Arabic instruments, Sephardic ritual, Byzantine liturgy, native folk songs, and, above all, the rhythms of Gypsy life, deep song is characterized by intense and profound emotion. Fearing that the priceless heritage of deep song might vanish from Spain, Lorca, along with Manuel de Falla and other young artists, hoped to preserve ""the artistic treasure of an entire race."" In Poem of the Deep Song, the poet's own lyric genius gives cante jondo a special kind of immortality. Carlos Baur is the translator of Garcia Lorca's The Public and Play Without a Title: Two Posthumous Plays, and of Cries from a Wounded Madrid: Poetry of the Spanish Civil War. He has also translated the work of Henry Miller and other contemporary American writers into Spanish.

The Object of the Atlantic is a wide-ranging study of the transition from a concern with sovereignty to a concern with things in Iberian Atlantic literature and art produced between 1868 and 1968. Rachel Price uncovers the surprising ways that concrete aesthetics from Cuba, Brazil, and Spain drew not only on global forms of constructivism but also on a history of empire, slavery, and media technologies from the Atlantic world. Analyzing Jose Marti’s notebooks, Joaquim de Sousandrade’s poetry, Ramiro de Maeztu’s essays on things and on slavery, 1920s Cuban literature on economic restructuring, Ferreira Gullar’s theory of the “non-object,” and neoconcrete art, Price shows that the turn to objects—and from these to new media networks—was rooted in the very philosophies of history that helped form the Atlantic world itself.

Two works in one. this is an exquisite art book offering the first comprehensive treatment of Vicuna's work in English.

The Translation judges for the National Book Awards--Richard Miller, Alastair Reid, Eliot Weinberger--cited Clayton Eshleman and Jose Rubia Barcia's translation of Cesar Vallejo's The Complete Posthumous Poetry as follows: "This, the first National Book Award to be given to a translation of modern poetry, is a recognition of Clayton Eshleman's seventeen-year apprenticeship to perhaps the most difficult poetry in the Spanish language. Eshleman and his present collaborator, Jose Rubia Barcia, have not only rendered these complex poems into brilliant and living English, but have also established a definitive Spanish test based on Vallejo's densely rewritten manuscripts. In recreating this modern master in English, they have also made a considerable addition to poetry in our language."