This poem's been on my mind.

Since it's National Poetry Month, and since I've been thinking about this poem a lot the past few days, I think I'll share it here.

It's by Octavio Paz. I have a couple books of his poetry which I sadly haven't looked at for years. But the other day I was sitting in the den looking at my bookshelf and there it was. I saw his book of poetry called Configurations, realizing I hadn't really looked at it since I graduated from college (Lake Forest College, in Lake Forest, IL).That was back in 1993 . . . and I haven't looked at these poems since the mid-'90s.

And so I picked up Configurations and began flipping through it. The spine was broken in one part - at the part where this particular poem is located. I read it, remembering how much I liked it, felt connected to it for some reason.

Anyway, here it is, one of my favorite poems by Octavio Paz:

 

Aquí

Mis pasos en esta calle

Resuenan

               En otra calle

Donde

               Oigo mis pasos

Pasar en esta calle

Donde

Sólo es real la niebla

And for those of you who don't read Spanish, here's Charles Tomlinson's translation of Paz's poem:

Here

My steps along this street

Resound

              In another street

In which

              I hear my steps

Passing along this street

In which

Only the mist is real