My heart is waiting, another miracle of spring ... ____________________________________________________________________________
Antonio Machado wrote these verses of hope in 1912 after becoming sick with TB Leonor in their temporary stay in Paris. The doctor advised them to return to Soria, where the fresh air would facilitate their recovery. Despite initial improvement, Leonor deteriorated and died.
"Oh, what death was a broken wire between the two!"
the end of the road from the main square towards the church of Nuestra SeƱora del Espino, is dry elm singing Machado. Eight days after the death of Leonor, the last of it in Soria, the poet traveled the route with the unbearable memory of his wife.
few meters beyond the elm tree in the cemetery, you can visit the grave of Eleanor . (SOURCE luthieryotuve )
DRY AN ELM
The old elm tree split by lightning and his half
rotten
with April showers and May sun
some green leaves have emerged .
Elm Hill centennial
lapping the Duero!
yellow moss will stain white crust
the trunk decayed and dusty.
will not, which
singing poplars guarding the road and the shore, inhabited by brown
nightingales. Army ants
row is climbing it, and deep inside
hatched gray spider webs.
Before you down, elm del Duero,
the woodcutter with his ax, and you become a carpenter
mane hood spear
car or wagon yoke;
before red at home, tomorrow,
ardas in some miserable hut,
the edge of a road;
before uprooting you a whirlwind
and broken the breath of the white mountains,
before the river to the sea
push you through valleys and canyons,
elm, I write in my portfolio
the grace of your growing green industry. My heart hopes
also to the light and to life,
another miracle of spring.
. . .
The old elm tree split by lightning and his half
rotten
with April showers and May sun
some green leaves have emerged .
Elm Hill centennial
lapping the Duero!
yellow moss will stain white crust
the trunk decayed and dusty.
will not, which
singing poplars guarding the road and the shore, inhabited by brown
nightingales. Army ants
row is climbing it, and deep inside
hatched gray spider webs.
Before you down, elm del Duero,
the woodcutter with his ax, and you become a carpenter
mane hood spear
car or wagon yoke;
before red at home, tomorrow,
ardas in some miserable hut,
the edge of a road;
before uprooting you a whirlwind
and broken the breath of the white mountains,
before the river to the sea
push you through valleys and canyons,
elm, I write in my portfolio
the grace of your growing green industry. My heart hopes
also to the light and to life,
another miracle of spring.
![](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6SxW6Gdb6wQ/SRlv6paekkI/AAAAAAAAEHY/sQyiT7uTnLU/s320/antonio+machado.jpg)
. . .
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