Sunday, October 21, 2007

Writing without seeing

We were writing to each other without ever having seen each other. It took quite some time before we exchanged pictures. That was not really important for any of us. But we soon saw some common interests in litterature and music which made it very easy to talk.

We exchanged some of the things that we had read, things that felt important in our lives. Like learning to know the Mexican poet Octavio Paz:


Between night and day
Is an unclear area.
It is not light, not shadow:
It is time.

An hour, a pause of insecurity,
A darkening page,
A page where I slowly
Write these words.

A fire eating itself.
Day turns and looses its leaves.
A dark flood removing
the borders of all things.
Strong and soft

It tears away everything leading to an unknown place.
Reality flows away.
And I write:
I talk to myself
- I talk to you.

Entre la noche y el día
hay un territorio indeciso.
No es luz ni sombra:
es tiempo.

Hora, pausa precaria,
página que se obscurece,
página en la que escribo,
despacio, estas palabras.
La tarde

es una brasa que se consume.
El día gira y se deshoja.
Lima los confines de las cosas
un río obscuro.
Terco y suave

las arrastra, no sé adónde.
La realidad se aleja.
Yo escribo:
hablo conmigo
- hablo contigo.

Octavio Paz
My inner three
Àrbol adrentro (1976-1988)

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