Girl
Between the afternoon, resisting,
and the night, gathering,
the gaze of a young girl.
She abandons her notebook and writing,
all of her being in two fixed eyes.
On the wall the light cancels itself.
Does she see her end or her beginning?
She’ll say she sees nothing.
The infinite is transparent.
She’ll never know what she saw.
by Octavio Paz
from The Collected Poems, 1957-1987
Carcanet, 1987
……~~~~~
Original Spanish:
Niña
Entre la tarde que se obstina
y la noche que se acumula
hay la mirada de una niña.
Deja el cuaderno y la escritura,
todo su ser dos ojos fijose.
En la pared la luz se anula.
¿Mira su fin o su principio?
Ella dirá que no ve nada.
Es transparente el infinito.
Nunca sabrá que lo miraba.


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It’s difficult to imagine Ramadan in Gaza this year. I want to imagine that, even at a time of devastation and deprivation, a personal act of sacrifice can still lend purpose to senselessness. Maybe it can give powerless people a small sense of control. When you fast, you can think, I chose this hunger; it was not forced on me. But maybe that’s wishful thinking. Hunger is painful. It is one of our most primal desires, and the most human; inflicting it on someone else can seem inhuman. The only antidote is to eat. And in the same way that food brings people together I wonder whether its absence keeps us apart. Hunger makes us weak, and not only physically. It cuts us off from the strength that comes from being together.
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