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Friday, 17 February 2012

No one can be named Pedro, no one is Rosa or Maria, all of us are dust or sand, all of us are rain in the rain...

They have talked to me of Venezualas,
of Paraguays and Chiles,
I don't know what they're talking about:
I'm aware of the earth's skin
and I know that it doesn't have a name.

(- Pablo Neruda, Too Many Names)

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