The two elements the traveler first captures in the big city are extra human architecture and furious rhythm. Geometry and anguish.
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the overwhelming experience of a traveler in a big city, characterized by its imposing structures and intense pace of life.
Federico Garcia Lorca's quote encapsulates the essence of a traveler's initial perception of a bustling city. He highlights the stark contrast between the monumental architecture, representing human achievement and creativity, and the 'furious rhythm,' which conveys the frenetic energy and emotional turmoil often associated with urban life. This juxtaposition of 'geometry' and 'anguish' underscores the dual nature of city living, where beauty and stress coexist, leaving a lasting impact on those who roam its streets.
In practice
This quote could be used in a travel blog discussing the overwhelming nature of urban experiences.
The wounds were burning like suns at five in the afternoon, and the crowd broke the windows At five in the afternoon. Ah, that fatal five in the afternoon! It was five by all the clocks! It was five in the shade of the afternoon!
There is nothing more poetic and terrible than the skyscrapers' battle with the heavens that cover them. Snow, rain, and mist highlight, drench, or conceal the vast towers, but those towers, hostile to mystery and blind to any sort of play, shear off the rain's tresses and shine their three thousand swords through the soft swan of the fog.
The poem, the song, the picture, is only water drawn from the well of the people, and it should be given back to them in a cup of beauty so that they may drink - and in drinking understand themselves.
Death laid its eggs in the wound
New York is something awful, something monstrous. I like to walk the streets, lost, but I recognize that New York is the world's greatest lie. New York is Senegal with machines.
Woodcutter. Cut my shadow from me. Free me from the torment of being without fruit. Why was I born among mirrors? Day goes round and round me. The night copies me in all its stars. I want to live without my reflection. And then let me dream that ants and thistledown are my leaves and my parrots.
Much of the Christian religion has largely become βholding onβ instead of letting go. But God, it seems to me, does the holding on (to us!), and we must learn the letting go (of everything else).
God's existence cannot be deduced by reason alone.
Though they go mad they shall be sane, though they sink through the sea they shall rise again; though lovers be lost love shall not; and death shall have no dominion.
Conversion for me was not a Damascus Road experience. I slowly moved into an intellectual acceptance of what my intuition had always known.
To us, it is incomprehensible that millions of Christian men killed and tortured each other because Napoleon was ambitious or Alexander was firm, or because England's policy was astute or the Duke of Oldenburg was wronged. We cannot grasp what connection such circumstances have the with the actual fact of slaughter and violence: why because the Duke was wronged, thousands of men from the other side of Europe killed and ruined the people of Smolensk and Moscow and were killed by them.
The only place where poverty should be is in museums.
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