Death, Vicious Death, Leave A Green Branch

The Little Mute Boy The Little Boy Was Looking For His Voice. (the King Of The Crickets Had It.) In A Drop Of Water The Little Boy Was Looking For His Voice. I Do Not Want It For Speaking With; I Will Make A Ring Of It So That He May Wear My Silence On His Little Finger In A Drop Of Water The Little Boy Was Looking For His Voice. (the Captive Voice, Far Away, Put On A Cricket's Clothes.) Translated By William S. Merwin

Theatre Is Poetry That Rises From The Book And Becomes Human Enough To Talk And Shout, Weep And Despair

Pero Yo Ya No Soy Yo Ni Mi Casa Es Ya Mi Casa. But Now I Am No Longer I, Nor Is My House Any Longer My House.

In Spain, The Dead Are More Alive Than The Dead Of Any Other Country In The World.

Verde Que Te Quiero Verde. Verde Viento. Verde Ramas. Green I Love You Green. Green Wind. Green Branches.