Poetry
Indescribable Patagonia
Here in the south everything is excessive,
As if every element was focused through a magnifying lens
Until it reached its maximum.
A straw patch in a ravine is a puddle where the sun poured yellow fire.
When it is about to rain the clouds sensually rest on the mountains,
Resembling heavy cows on a narrow pass.
The sky is so present and palpable that one walks within it,
And so infinite and blue that one feels one sees the stars in full noon.
The air is so rich that one eats it, as sweet as water from a well,
And as cool and pure.
Insects know what they are doing. And so do birds.
Even when one does not grasp the logic of their comings and goings.
