rotonda en 1966


En el curso de un paseo de un cuarto de hora había pasado por delante de un hospital, de una cárcel, de un manicomio, de una escuela de enfermeras, de una iglesia y de un cuartel de bomberos. ¿No era un especie de compendio de la existencia? Sólo faltaba el cementerio, que no estaba tan lejos.

El gato. George Simenon

código binario


Bishop was a perfectionist who did not write prolifically, preferring instead to spend long periods of time polishing her work. She published only 101 poems during her lifetime.

Extraído de su biografía publicada en Poetry Foundation

One Art


The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop