A selection of poems from Paisajes que insisten (Pez en el Hielo Ediciones, 2024).
Translation by Eponine Howarth.

THE SUMMER WE TRAVELLED TO SEE THE LAKE

and in the end we never got there
because they said there was no water
I cried that summer
I told you
that the mountains felt
immense to me
that I didn’t know
how or where to put
all that immensity
that it didn’t fit anywhere
and you told me to write something
anything
as if it were that easy
and then I thought about volcanoes
and the pacts of trust
we make with the world
to try not to
go insane.

I ASK THE PLANTS FOR SOLUTIONS

things that I know they cannot
and will not be able to give me
but I do it anyway
so as not to run the risk
that everything depends on me.

THE BRANCHES FALLING
FROM THE TREES

lightly
is an image that calms me.
Something like knowing how to lose
pieces of yourself
without falling into despair.

SOME TIME LATER, SOMEONE

told me that
we don’t really know if trees despair
when they lose their leaves or branches
that maybe they do
that maybe they despair
and try to move
to reach what is falling away
or they dry out completely
from one day to the next
like the plum tree in the backyard
and make noises of death
that only some of us can hear
someone told me
that maybe they do
that maybe they despair
and that’s okay anyway.