The Warmth of Mexico — Part X — El Templo Mayor
The Warmth of Mexico Part II
The Warmth of Mexico Part III
The Warmth of Mexico Part IV
The Warmth of Mexico Part V
The Warmth of Mexico Part VI
The Warmth of Mexico Part VIII
What I particularly miss in the cold newness of Vancouver with its cyan skies is not to be able to imagine the place hundreds of years before by going through ancient doorways and looking at the decaying wood of the doors. Without too much imagination I can imagine what those people of yore did. One of my favourite poets, Mexican Homero Aridjis wrote the poem below (in Spanish with an English translation following it. When I look at these photographs I can feel the heat, hear the rumbling of buses and the car horns. I can smell tortillas being made in tortillerías. My nostalgia for Mexico beckons for me to return soon.
Por estas callejuelas
ancestros invisibles
caminan con nosotros
ruidos de coches
miradas de niños
y cuerpos de muchachas
los traspasan
Impalpables y vagos
frente a puertas que ya no son
y puentes que son vaciós
los atravesamos
mientras con el sol en la cara
nosotros vamos también
hacia la transparencia
Letter From Mexico
Invisible ancestors
walk with us
through these back streets
car-noises
the stares of children
young girls’ bodies
cross through them
Weightless vague
we travel through them
at doorways that no longer are
on bridges that are empty
while with the sun on our faces
we too
move toward transparency
Homero Aridjis
Eyest to See Otherwise — Ojos de otro mirar
Selected Poems
Edited by Betty Farber and George McWhirter
