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Well, I've toyed with the idea of \u200b\u200bmoving or standing still to get away, and also to find a land with nothing written in the sand, so to speak, and now I think it could look like:
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always be traveling to your country,
yourself to a place to be another
you no longer remember,
or unwilling to return.

But where there is a world beyond the past, you
to escape.

That leaves learn to forget the roads. Loyal
Give up the adventure of going
and the dream of return. But

what serves the distance
the man who does not forget,
which is doomed to
his face can be reflected at once in two rivers.

With the sadness of
stops to let their wishes long;
hopes of remaining intact

not know where to go or whom to expect,

my leave of you,
went down to the street
set foot in a land that existed.

I've never gone further than to let you go.

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This comes

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A little more than our poem with many faces

Aquí está lo que se me ha ocurrido este fin de semana. En el blog de Meadow también he copiado los catorce versos que tenemos por ahora y explico un poco más cómo he llegado hasta ahí. ¿Cómo llegaríais vosotros hasta el final? En realidad, estos días, entre Córdoba y Madrid, he estado working more in the novel, but it is true that had the poem in the background all the time and I had fun making it not the case, which is a way of working that I've always liked so much that sometimes delay the time for me to write for the pure pleasure to retain a little poem inside . Jaime Gil de Viedma once told me, while I spent reviewing all the gay bars of Barcelona, \u200b\u200bthat he was going exactly the same, and compared it with the pleasure of not opening a gift, which I thought was wonderful . Good night all.


always be traveling to your country,
yourself to a place to be another
you no longer remember,
or unwilling to return.

But where there is a world beyond the past, you
to escape.

That leaves learn to forget the roads. Loyal
Give up the adventure of going
and the dream of return.

But the distance does it profit a man
not forget,
which is doomed to
his face can be reflected at once in two rivers. (...)


I never went further than to let you go.

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Hi, Sonia. I like the idea of \u200b\u200blearning to go back. We can follow, just in the opposite direction, because it is an idea beautiful but it says the opposite of what is meant by the poem, rather than the desire to return, spoke of the desire to forget. In fact, in the end there will be a leap from the general to the particular and I know that this jump will include a verse that says: "I never went further than to let you go." So your idea gives us the hint of a verse that I love and that belongs to fifty percent, because I've done to find what he meant, saying the opposite: "He travels to forget the roads." It clearly has to be the first of the second stanza and that if the road can not be the target to avoid rhyme. You see, a poem is like a jungle: the stronger words to eat the other.

always be traveling to your country,
yourself to a place to be another
you no longer remember,
or unwilling to return.

to forget is traveling the roads ...


Moony, I also prefer the idea of \u200b\u200bthe steps and on the streets who do not know. It's perfect and fits like you've guessed verse Sandra and me. And now that I think, why not get another character to give the reason to take the opposite Sandra and the poem and I, pick up the idea of \u200b\u200blearning to be back? Although, of course, I'm going to hold, to keep away the poem of his subject.

That leaves
learn to forget the roads
who remember their steps. Loyal
Give up the adventure of going
and the dream of return.

Although the ear tells me that "you remember your steps" could use another verse of seven syllables, sharp finish, perhaps with the voice or head, and say that these roads condemned repeat to you, to routine, lack of horizons ... I do not know, something.

As for you, Victor, for the moment not think of anything with the drug train, and even if they travel to meet is not misguided, I think that somehow has already been said. Let's see what happens to us.

Well, for now I leave there, they come to fetch me to take me to a ceremony in which I have to participate this morning. You can also start thinking about what will be the end to end makes sense. The idea is that sometimes the journey to be free can only be done if left to another-to be free to move ... I have a suspicion, however, that "I never went further than to let you go" will not be the last verse, but the penultimate.

always be traveling to your country,
yourself to a place to be another
you no longer remember,
or unwilling to return.

That leaves learn to forget the roads
who remember their steps. Loyal
, waiver
going adventure and the dream of return. (...)


I never went further than to let you go.

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Let's make a game. Yesterday I left three verses of a poem about the trip: "We always travel to your country / yourself to a place to be other / not want to return." What would be the following three lines if you write it? The idea of \u200b\u200bthe poem is that paradise is always in another corner, as Vargas said the chief, so I put that picture with him next, which is a few weeks ago and is taken in Segovia. We can do it here or on the blog Meadow.

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so long

The truth is that almost did not remember this blog, because you always look at is the other, which makes Meadow. Well, I'm writing the novel, I have been a third, and some poems, slowly. The first is because I want to do and second because I can not avoid them. I must hurry, because right now the only thing that comes to my desk are reprints, translations, all that on the one hand I like it, because it means that some books are still living and learning languages, and secondly I am concerned about is how to wood fire burned. But not easy to move when you move so much and I have made so many trips in recent months, United States, Cuba, Greece, Costa Rica and twice to Italy, and if I say no to many things, the fact is that again in January to go to Cuba, and Argentina in May, also in Luxembourg and, probably, Mexico, aside from a few sites in Spain. Rafael Alberti remember always told me, when you're working, do not interrupt at all, because you pick up the phone and the poem is another ... Who could ignore it. I am also seeing friends, last night I had dinner with Juan Gelman, Luis García Montero, Chus Visor ... and today I feel great, because I crossed from one side to another of the night swimming in vodka ... Ugh! And this afternoon I have to go see Pepe Caballero Bonald, to have a conversation with him about poetry that I have asked the newspaper, which will be long and that I deliver Monday. And tomorrow is another dinner to support Luis, who has been convicted in a court of Granada for libel to a University professor who for years had insulted him and his family. Well, I wish I could add something this weekend to my books up, but when ... At least, I think I'll finish a poem that lacks only a couple of verses or three, I think. If I succeed, I'll be happy to Monday.