Paz, Octavio Mexico (1)

Paz, Octavio

Paz, Octavio (1914 – 1998) Octavio Paz was born in what is now Mexico City, Mexico. Paz was born into a wealthy family, but during the Mexican Civil War, they lost their fortune and were forced to flee to America after Zapata was assassinated. Paz’s grandfather had a wonderful library with Mexican & European literature that would inspire him. He published his first collection of poems at 19, and through his lifetime, in spite of writing essays, literary criticism, drama, and 21 books, he considered himself a poet. Many political and religious influences were seen in his early poetry; his later poetry contained more romantic associations. Many critics argue that his writing was responsible for promoting and sustaining Mexican culture.

He was married three times, w/ his 1st marriage producing a daughter. He was a Mexican diplomat, traveling to the U. S., India, Switzerland, & France, but left the diplomatic corps in 1968 after a group of student demonstrators were killed by government forces. He maintained his liberal political perspective while living in Paris, continuing to help liberal Mexican & Latin American writers find their voice, too. He wrote about personal freedom & won many awards, including the Nobel Prize in 1990 for poetry; the committee loved his ability to write intensely about love. He believed poets everywhere wrote about universal themes. Newsmakers wrote “…Paz was a poet, yet he was not a gentle man…His poetry & essays have been described as…passionate, complicated & hauntingly lonely.” He claims he disliked the process of writing, but loved the results, calling the dictionary “his adviser, his elder brother.”

“No More Cliches” Octavio Paz Beautiful face That like a daisy opens its petals to the sun So do you Open your face to me as I turn the page. Enchanting smile Any man would be under your spell, Oh, beauty of a magazine. How many poems have been written to you? How many Dantes have written to you, Beatrice? To your obsessive illusion To your manufactured fantasy.

But today I won't make one more Cliché And write this poem to you. No, no more clichés. This poem is dedicated to those women Whose beauty is in their charm, In their intelligence, In their character, Not on their fabricated looks.

This poem is to you women, That like a Shahrazade wake up Everyday with a new story to tell, A story that sings for change That hopes for battles: Battles for the love of the united flesh Battles for passions aroused by a new day Battle for the neglected rights Or just battles to survive one more night. Yes, to you women in a world of pain To you, bright star in this ever-spending universe To you, fighter of a thousand-and-one fights To you, friend of my heart.

From now on, my head won't look down to a magazine Rather, it will contemplate the night And its bright stars, And so, no more clichés.