Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Robinson Quintero

A MAN WALKING AROUND HIS HOME

Poetry has no timetable

Poetry is written not when one wishes to
but when She —poetry— desires it
— they say

I say this to myself as I walk
and kick a small stone
down the street
again and again

the same small stone

God can be anything
even a stone on the road
—they also say

And I say it to myself as someone
who has nothing unusual
to say about a stone
kicked down a solitary street

To kick the stone is the whole subject
on this afternoon
without subject
for there is nothing to do
and poetry has no timetable

The stone knocks another stone and doesn’t sing
it does not fill the universe
It is nothing
one could say
on the way home

HOMBRE QUE DA UNA VUELTA A SU CASA

HOMBRE QUE DA UNA VUELTA A SU CASA

La poesía no tiene horario

La poesía se escribe no cuando uno quiere
sino cuando ella –la poesía– quiere
dicen

Esto me digo mientras camino
y pateo una piedrita
calle abajo
una y otra vez

la misma piedrita

Dios puede ser cualquier cosa
incluso una piedra en el camino
–dicen también

Y me lo digo como quien no tiene
para decir
algo inusitado sobre una piedra
que se patea en una calle solitaria

Darle a la piedra es todo el asunto
de esta tarde
sin asunto
pues no hay qué hacer
y la poesía no tiene horario

La piedra golpea otra piedra y no canta
no llena el universo
Es nada
diría uno
en el camino que lleva a casa
Close

A MAN WALKING AROUND HIS HOME

Poetry has no timetable

Poetry is written not when one wishes to
but when She —poetry— desires it
— they say

I say this to myself as I walk
and kick a small stone
down the street
again and again

the same small stone

God can be anything
even a stone on the road
—they also say

And I say it to myself as someone
who has nothing unusual
to say about a stone
kicked down a solitary street

To kick the stone is the whole subject
on this afternoon
without subject
for there is nothing to do
and poetry has no timetable

The stone knocks another stone and doesn’t sing
it does not fill the universe
It is nothing
one could say
on the way home

A MAN WALKING AROUND HIS HOME

Poetry has no timetable

Poetry is written not when one wishes to
but when She —poetry— desires it
— they say

I say this to myself as I walk
and kick a small stone
down the street
again and again

the same small stone

God can be anything
even a stone on the road
—they also say

And I say it to myself as someone
who has nothing unusual
to say about a stone
kicked down a solitary street

To kick the stone is the whole subject
on this afternoon
without subject
for there is nothing to do
and poetry has no timetable

The stone knocks another stone and doesn’t sing
it does not fill the universe
It is nothing
one could say
on the way home
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère