Mineral cactai,quicksilver lizards in the adobe walls,the bird that punctures space,thirst, tedium, clouds of dust, impalpable epiphanies of wind.The pines taught me to talk to myself.In that garden I learnedto send myself off.Later there were...

CodaPerhaps to love is to learnto walk through this world.To learn to be silentlike the oak and the linden of the fable.To learn to see.Your glance scattered seeds.It planted a tree. I talkbecause you shake...

Nuestra muerte ilumina nuestra vida. Si nuestra muerte carece de sentido, tampoco lo tuvo nuestra vida. Por eso cuando alguien muere de muerte violenta, solemos decir: “se la buscó”. Y es cierto, cada quien tiene...

Al escribir “historia” me refiero a la general o universal. No hay otra: lo que se llama “historia patria” es espejo del hombre -y entonces es también universal- o es una anécdota de sobremesa.

A TODOS, en algún momento, se nos ha revelado nuestra existencia como algo particular, intransferible y precioso. Casi siempre esta revelación se sitúa en la adolescencia. Eldescubrimiento de nosotros mismos se manifiesta como un sabernos...

Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone, and the only one who seeks out another. His nature – if that word can be...

When we learn to speak, we learn to translate.

The object of poetic activity is essentially language: whatever his beliefs & convictions, the poet is more concerned with words than what these words designate.

I thought that the world was a vast system of signs, a conversation between giant beings. My actions, the cricket’s saw, the star’s blink, were nothing but pauses and syllables, scattered phrases from that dialogue....

Las épocas viejas nunca desaparecen completamente y todas las heridas, aun las más antiguas, manan sangre todavía.

El amor es intensidad y por esto es una distensión del tiempo: estira los minutos y los alarga como siglos.

When a society decays, it is language that is first to become gangrenous. As a result, social criticism begins with grammar and the re-establishing of meanings

Mato de hambre al amor, para que devore lo que encuentre.

better the crime,the suicides of lovers, the incest committedby brother and sister like two mirrorsin love with their likeness, better to eatthe poisoned bread, adultery on a bedof ashes, ferocious love, the poisonousvines of delirium,...

I went to the little window and inhaled the country air. One could hear the breathing of the night, feminine, enormous.(“The Blue Bouquet”)

Pero su recuerdo no me abandona. Quien ha visto la Esperanza, no la olvida. La busca bajo todos los cielos y entre todos los hombres. Y sueña que un día va a encontrarla de nuevo,...

life is other, always there,further off, beyond you andbeyond me, always on the horizon,life which unlives us and makes us strangers,that invents our face and wears it away

The blue light of the rising moon fell on the rocks and the scant forest of the taiga, revealing each projecting rock, each tree in a peculiar fashion, different from the way they looked by...

Beyond myself, somewhere, I wait for my arrival.

Every text is unique and, at the same time, it is the translation of another text. No text is entirely original because language itself, in its essence, is already a translation: firstly, of the non-verbal...

La imagen de la biblioteca como refugio en donde se repliega la afectividad de Juana Inés y se despliega su actividad mental, ha de completarse con otra, que toca a la voluntad y al carácter:...

This is perhaps the most noble aim of poetry, to attach ourselves to the world around us, to turn desire into love, to embrace, finally what always evades us, what is beyond, but what is...

At first I couldn’t see anything. I fumbled along the cobblestone street. I lit a cigarette. Suddenly the moon appeared from behind a black cloud, lighting a white wall that was crumbled in places. I...

oh life to live, life already lived,time that comes back in a swell of sea,time that recedes without turning its head,the past is not past, it is still passing by,flowing silently into the next vanishing...

because two bodies, naked and entwined,leap over time, they are invulnerable,nothing can touch them, they return to the source,there is no you, no I, no tomorrow,no yesterday, no names, the truth of twoin a single...

Everything is language.

Sentirse solo no es sentirse inferior, sino distinto. El sentimiento de soledad no es una ilusión —como a veces lo es el de inferioridad— sino la expresión de un hecho real: somos, de verdad, distintos....