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To Escape the World
To escape the world. I prepare my cigarette… I do it slowly, very fast, but very slow so it doesn’t lose its charge. I check its charge well—that everything’s fine—that its seeds don’t…
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It Was a Night Without Moon or Stars
It was a night without moon or stars, under the heat of candles and the suffocating enclosed air of a tent, under the intoxicating, numbing and hallucinogenic effect of alcohol, you kissed me,…
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Who Has Stolen My April?
Since 1988, on his sixth album, writing in “certain bars in Madrid whose name I don’t want to remember,” Joaquín Sabina cried out with his torn voice: Who has stolen my April? It’s…
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