Octavio Paz Poems
|1.||Piedra De Sol||4/15/2010|
|3.||Summit And Gravity||4/15/2010|
|4.||Where Without Whom||4/15/2010|
|14.||As One Listens To The Rain||4/15/2010|
|15.||Between Going And Coming||4/15/2010|
|16.||No More Clichés||4/3/2004|
Comments about Octavio Paz
Between Going And Coming
Between going and staying
the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.
All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can’t be touched.
Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.
Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.
The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.
I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.
The moment scatters. ...
Through the conduits of blood
my body in your body
spring of night
my tongue of sun in your forest
your body a kneading trough
I red wheat
Through conduits of bone
I night I water
I forest that moves forward