If I were reading a book and happened to strike a wonderful passage I would close the book then and there and go for a walk. I hated the thought of coming to the end of a good book. I would tease it along, delay the inevitable as long as possible, But always, when I hit a great passage, I would stop reading immediately. Out I would go, rain, hail, snow or ice, and chew the cud.
It should go without saying that no one goes into poetry for money.
July with sun-filled leaves drifting among the butterflies
I have been coming to this morning light since the day I was born
I saw its childhood as I sat alone in silence by the high window
no one else saw it no one else would ever recognize it
it is the same child now who watches the clouds change
they appear from out of sight and change as the moment passes
W.S. Merwin, "Summer Sky," from The Moon Before Morning (Copper Canyon Press, 2014)
FIL Lima 2014, Ayer sábado 19 de julio
Luego de haber trabajado el año pasado en la FIL Lima, que este año 2014 celebra su edición XIX con nueva administración y todo, de vivir prácticamente durante dos semanas en dicho espacio, soportando un horario agotador, además del invierno limeño que por lo demás es bastante insufrible y por consiguiente mi solidaridad con todos los que están laborando en este momento, he sentido las ganas de estar allí nuevamente.
El mismo lugar, casi los mismos expositores, pero con cierto aire renovado.
Books give body to our ideas and imaginations, make them flesh in the world; a bookstore is the city where our fleshed-out inner selves reside.
We read books to find out who we are. What other people, real or imaginary, do and think and feel… is an essential guide to our understanding of what we ourselves are and may become.