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From the "Poems I Could Not Write" EP. Written by César Vallejo. Vallejo first published "Black Stone Lying on a White Stone" in the collection of poems entitled Poemas Humanos. It is unknown exactly when these poems were written. (But I'd go so far as to say this one was written during his stay in Paris)
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Black Stone Lying on a White Stone
I will die in Paris, on a rainy day,
on some day I can already remember.
I will die in Paris--and I don't step aside--
perhaps on a Thursday, as today is Thursday, in autumn.
It will be a Thursday, because today, Thursday, setting down
these lines, I have put my upper arm bones on
wrong, and never so much as today have I found myself
with all the road ahead of me, alone.
César Vallejo is dead. Everyone beat him
although he never does anything to them;
they beat him hard with a stick and hard also
with a rope. These are the witnesses:
the Thursdays, and the bones of my arms,
the solitude, and the rain, and the roads. . .
-César Vallejo (1892 - 1938)
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