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Quote by Richard Blanco

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The Prince of Los Cocuyos: A Miami Childhood

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Richard Blanco
Richard Blanco

Richard Blanco is a renowned American poet born on February 15, 1968, in Puerto Rico. His poetry blends personal experience, cultural identity, and public issues, enjoying great popularity among readers. more

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“Schimbarea este iminentă. Ființa omenească se află în pragul unei noi ere, când își va întoarce iar privirile spre natură și spre ceea ce a fost... spre ideile din cărți precum Zoharul și alte texte străvechi din lumea întreagă. Adevărurile semnificative își au propria forță gravitațională și, în cele din urmă, atrag oamenii spre ele. Va veni o zi în care știința modernă va începe să studieze cu atenție înțelepciunea anticilor. Aceea va fi ziua în care omenirea va începe să afle răspunsurile la marile întrebări ale vieții, încă neelucidate.”

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“Adevărul are putere. Iar dacă gravităm cu toții în jurul acelorași idei, o facem poate, întrucât acele idei sunt reale... înscrise adânc în noi înșine. Iar atunci când auzim adevărul, chiar dacă nu-l înțelegem, simțim că el rezonează în interiorul nostru... vibrând odată cu înțelepciunea noastră inconștientă. Poate că adevărul nu-l învățăm, ci ni-l reamintim... îl re-memorăm... îl re-cunoaștem... ca fiind deja înlăuntrul nostru.”

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“Suntem creatori, dar jucăm naivi, rolul de „creație”. Ne considerăm biete oi neajutorate, mânate încolo și-ncoace de Dumnezeul care ne-a creat. Îngenunchem aidoma unor copii speriați, implorând ajutor, iertare sau noroc. Odată ce ne vom da seama însă că am fost cu adevărat modelați după chipul și asemănarea Creatorului, vom începe să înțelegem că și noi suntem, prin urmare, creatori. Iar atunci când acest lucru ne va fi clar, porțile se vor deschide larg în fața realului potențial omenesc.”

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“The lasagna filled a huge roasting pan, covered in thick browned cheese that was crispy in the corners. "Get me a corner piece, and I'll owe you one," Sanna whispered to Isaac, who sat closer to the pan. "I'll hold you to that." He scooped the darkest corner onto her plate with a wink that caused Sanna's heart to skip. She wished she could come up with a pithy response, but instead she turned her attention to the food, unable to find her words. The garlic bread was made from a local bakery's signature item, the giant Corsica loaf. It was slathered in sesame seeds and baked in olive oil so the bottom was crispy yet dripping. Mrs. Dibble had carved huge slices, coated each with garlic butter, then warmed it until the butter soaked in. The salad rounded it out, something light to balance all the heavy food so you could keep nibbling on lettuce to stretch the time at the table. "Sanna, why don't you pull out a few bottles of cider for dinner?" Einars said. Glad for distraction, Sanna brought out three large bottles she had in the fridge, all from the same batch- toasty brown. Not the most appetizing color, but it was the best match to go with a dinner like this one. It was a nearly still, unfiltered scrumpy style that was layered and complex, but not sweet and not dry. It wasn't acidic, so it didn't compete with the tomato sauce, and the subtle apple notes didn't confuse the palate with too many conflicting flavors. It was refreshing and smooth, a dark amber in color with bits of sediment floating around. She poured it into stemless glasses for each of the adults and enjoyed how the evening light got trapped, making the liquid glow when she held it up in a beam of evening summer sunlight.”

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“An almost invisible bird, a small piece of hopping dirt, purposed along the edge of the flower bed, eyeing for beauty or looking for worms. Olivia watched it as she walked with her husband toward the yew and puzzling statue. We count those birds as nothing, she thought, the small dun-colored ones, and prefer to keep our wonder for the spectral glory of cardinals, or the ungainly grace of cranes. Goldfinches and even jays delight us, but are they so different from these common little brown birds which we think of as vermin? Astonishing accidents of pigment, size, plumage: Why do they elicit or wonder?”

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