BROWSE Columns
✕
At that time of the afternoon when things wear out,
The labyrinths of six strings were drawn by the fire.
Feathers, tin, dust, a butterfly, a kiss,
All was squeezed by the night like a poppy,
And saved inside the guitar
Like another match in its box.
The hanging kettle,
The braided water,
The green tea.
Cup clouds grow.
A green stone on a ring
That appears in the mist,
And disappears in the mist.
Her cheeks:
Minted silver
In gloom unbounded.
But even the moon is only poetical because there is a man in the moon. (CHESTERTON: The man who was Thursday)
Buenos Aires, 2021.
Ignacio Oliden (Buenos Aires, 1997) is a poet, translator and literary critic. He is Co-Editor in Chief of the literary magazine La Piccioletta Barca, and is a member of the editorial comittee of Buenos Aires Poetry (magazine and publishing house). He also writes poetry criticism in the Culture Supplement of the newspaper Perfil (Argentina). His work has appeared in print in newspapers, anthologies, and literary magazines in various countries, and his poetry has been translated into English, Italian and Greek. He has published Poetas del Renacimiento de Harlem (2023, in collaboration with Juan Arabia), and Mester de Juglaría (2024).
