About Antonio Machado: Antonio Machado was a Spanish poet and one of the leading figures of the Spanish literary movement known as the Generation of '98.
Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking. By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path that never will be trod again. Wanderer, there is no road-- On...
I thought my fireplace dead and stirred the ashes. I burned my fingers.
When the I AM THAT I AM made nothing And rested, which rest it certainly deserved, Night now accompanied day, and man Had his friend in the absence of the woman.
While the burning fish is tracing his arc near the cypress, beneath the highest blue of all, and the blind boy flies away in the white stone, and the ivory poem of the green cicada beats and reverberates in the elm, let us give honor to the Lord— t...
Like an abandoned dog who cannot find a smell or a track and roams along the roads, with no road, like the child who in a night of the fair gets lost among the crowd, and the air is dusty, and the candles fluttering,--astounded, his heart weighed dow...
Travelers, there is no path, paths are made by walking.
Man would be otherwise. That is the essence of the specifically human.
I dreamt -- marvellous error! -- that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures.
Between living and dreaming there is a third thing. Guess it.
Don't try to rush things: for the cup to run over, it must first be filled.
Todo pasa y todo queda, / Pero lo nuestro es pasar, / Pasar haciendo caminos,/ Caminos sobre el mar.
I. Don't trace out your profile-- forget your side view-- all that is outer stuff. II. Look for your other half who walks always next to you and tends to be who you aren't.
