Gonzalo Rojas / 'I'm an old Gonzalo Rojas
infinite
shared with the royal eternal passion: poetry. At 89, the father of poetry Hispanic is torn between his two natures: the eternal old has made more than the count in the world, and the apprentice poet, one child age 5 syllables in the world trying to capture the essence of lightning and wonder of life returned to
about to turn 89. Return to the frail, but with my heart full.
could not expect anything of the Chilean Gonzalo Rojas, major poet of Latin American poetry, which has gone from Surrealism to the exile, meetings of writers animator author of poems definitely modern and ancient.
is the last minstrel, a devotee of Heraclitus and Ovid, Mistral and Huidobro. Babbling, eroticism and genealogy. Lightning.
Invited by the Chair Alfonso Reyes, the legendary author of the poem "What do you love when you love?" will give a lecture and a workshop on Monday and Tuesday 21 and 22 August.
also attend an exhibition of paintings by Chilean Victor Ramirez, based on his work as a compresent at Tec de Monterrey.
"It's a minimal thing that I'm going to do to Monterrey," says modest by telephone from his native Chile, the author of "The Misery of Man" and "Idle reader, and Reina Sofia Cervantes Prize for Latin American Poetry.
"I will make a relationship with my own poetic exercise, one thing soon. I've given workshops before, a thing of less height.
" Imagine, I'm an old infinity. I have done over the account and I have yet to be done. One of them is to talk to young people, I love it, learn from them, nothing more.
The native port Lebu explains why the name of "Metamorphosis of the same" event at its meeting in Monterrey.
"Apparently it is a contradiction or absurdity, but I mean the metamorphosis of the butterfly larva longer. This requires development process. In my case, however, I have not made any progress," he says.
Rojas, José Emilio Pacheco, who said that every page of his honor the language in which it is written, is excited to talk about Alfonso Reyes, the Universal Regiomontanus.
"Monterrey is beautiful because I get to create something from deep inside. I studied at Kings since very young, I could see him in person, in April 59 death, and keep him a welcome presence, not the words, because I am old, time is relentless and I have forgotten a lot. I was coming and eastern Europe, I spoke with him and talked about the value of poetry, its importance.
"Over time, the phrase famous Borges would have a greater resonance within me: 'Reading is learning Alfonso Reyes writing '. I subscribe to that sentence entirely, says it all. "
By the way, says he has been reminding Reyes with fervor. Although no one can be quite healthy, at 89 years has found a relationship between the author of" Sol Monterrey and Gabriela Mistral, Chilean Nobel Prize.
"I thought a lot about them lately. Imagine you have walked the other day in the hills of the Mistral, who was a friend of Reyes, and now I know that the two got along very well.
"If Reyes was born in the summits in Monterrey, Mexico in the big hills, she was born in the summits of the mountains of Monte Grande, and called their land, in Chile.
" Gabriela was one sentence: 'This has been touched the rocks on the summit is critical. " She respected in Reyes that double, triple greatness, there is a dialogue between them. Both she and Reyes were air and land, what a lesson. How we would be more land, my lord, more human to the extent that we are more land! ".
- What does it taste poetry at age 89?
" For what it is. Not the puzzle that people want to think always, but the liveliness, the great surprise of living, breathing. I am animal breaths, I believe in the vitality. In the great word 'poetic' is that we are all made.
"This in Sometimes we forget that, but that's what the poet. The poet is to remind us invaluable to walk, laugh, love. I am a lover of life, I cling to it. "
The poet recalls his words during the last occurrence that took a few years ago in Mexico:" I myself am an unfinished book, a book slightly camouflaged behind another 25 or 30 I think, volumes that are fast masks of the same, people of the same person.
"I have not progressed NA-DA from age 6 when I saw lightning and heard it, and I will not retell the story it please. As I read papers, papers from here, papers there."
- Do you still think the same?
"Sure. Inconclusive am because I stand by what things really are. One never stops learning, one is an apprentice. I am a student of poetry. Even before he spoke of the Mistral, of Kings. Both were apprentices in his own way. Imagine Reyes, who knew both the Athenian and Classic. He was an apprentice, apprentice means land animal, child, land and silabeante. I have not done anything but syllabicate the world. I'm the same boy of 5, 6. I have 5, but I have 5. "
In 2000, Rojas was talking about the word "lightning", whose sound he wins his poetic initiation.
"What I mean with the lightning? "he said then." What you have heard more than seen. This time I was less than 6 years, and there was a tronadera over my poor little house of glass and sticks that had been my father and his orphans, my mother accompanied us.
"My father was a very worthy man, I believe, yes I saw it as just. While correteábamos and played all the 8 children in some galleries, between glass and rain, one of my brothers, who became a physician and recently died, he looked like space and time. He said, re-lam-pa-go. And I, with my head as a child listening to, in my little ear was deep inside the word thought: re-lam-pa-go.
"This word is worth more than all this story of life. He repeated the word as he felt the 'cuetería' and saw in the sky, on and off. This gave me the vibe, ephemeral, and the wonder of life. Then came the poetry. "
- you still hear the lightning, the sound of poetic initiation?
"I'm convinced that those bolts of lightning that appeared from behind the windows was not the starting point, but what I have said, re-lam-pa-go. In the gravest tetrasyllabic discovered the precious light, no glare, of course. The light is otherwise. But the poetry ... Usually I have heard again, sometimes I write vigorously. Only yesterday I wrote. I hear when I write, when I know I write. "
The old father of poetry will surely Monterrey with its slow pace, smiling, with his characteristic beret. Come from will be greeted with hugs and love.
" do you love when you love?
What do you love when you love, my God, terrible light of life or death in the light of what use was looking for, what it is, what is this: love? Who is it? "The woman in its depth, its roses, its volcanoes? Or the red sun my blood is furious when I enter it until the last roots?
"Or all is a great game, my God, and no woman or man is but one body: Yours, divided into stars of beauty in fleeting particles visible eternity?
" I'm dying in this O God, in this war to go back and forth between them in the streets can not love three hundred at a time, because I'm always condemned by one, to that one, that one you gave me in the old paradise. "
Published in 2006 in NORTH
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