Antonio Machado
Antonio Machado
Antonio Machado, in full Antonio Cipriano José María y Francisco de Santa Ana Machado y Ruiz, was a Spanish poet and one of the leading figures of the Spanish literary movement known as the Generation of '98...
NationalitySpanish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth26 July 1875
CitySeville, Spain
CountrySpain
running dream sleep
Has my heart gone to sleep? Have the beehives of my dreams stopped working, the waterwheel of the mind run dry, scoops turning empty, only shadow inside? No, my heart is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. Not asleep, not dreaming— its eyes are opened wide watching distant signals, listening on the rim of vast silence
thinking fool values
Only a fool thinks price and value are the same.
long decision wish
All uncertainty is fruitfull ... so long as it is accompanied by the wish to understand
men judging advice
Avoid pulpits, platforms, stages and pedestals. Keep to the hard ground. It is the only way you can judge your approximate status as a man.
Death is something we shouldn't fear because, while we are, death isn't, and when death is, we aren't.
dream thirds
Between living and dreaming there is a third thing. Guess it.
path traveler walks
Traveler, there is no path, the path must be forged as you walk.
success sweet heart
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.
fire ashes fingers
I thought my fire was out, and stirred the ashes…. I burnt my fingers.
believe thinking veils
Under all that we think, lives all we believe, like the ultimate veil of our spirits
sea track looks
XXIX Traveler, there is no path. The path is made by walking. Traveller, the path is your tracks And nothing more. Traveller, there is no path The path is made by walking. By walking you make a path And turning, you look back At a way you will never tread again Traveller, there is no road Only wakes in the sea.
jesus heaven passing-away
I love Jesus, who said to us: Heaven and earth will pass away. When heaven and earth have passed away, my word will remain. What was your word, Jesus? Love? Forgiveness? Affection? All your words were one word: Wakeup.
fundamentals poet
What the poet is searching for is not the fundamental I but the deep you.
dream sleep eye
My soul is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches, its eyes wide open far-off things, and listens at the shores of the great silence.