Dario Jaramillo Agudelo

Darío Jaramillo Agudelo (Antioquia, July 28, 1947) is a Colombian poet, novelist, essayist, and editor. One of the most recognized poets in his country, and in Latin America. His passion for reading began with his father, who collected encyclopedias, dictionaries, and poetry anthologies. Initially Agudelo wanted to be a civil engineer, starting studies at the Faculty of Mines of the National University, but eventually he graduated from Universidad Javeriana de Bogotá as a lawyer and economist. He held important cultural positions in government organizations, and was a member of the editorial board of the magazine Golpe de Dados, and of the private foundation Simón y Lola Guberek.

While visiting a friend’s farm in Cundinamarca, Agudelo was injured — while he was opening a gate, a load of shrapnel exploded and lifted him ten meters from the ground. As a result, his right leg was amputated. In 1974 he published his first book, Historias. Most of his work has been published in Spain by the publishing house Editorial Pre-textos. Darío Jaramillo Agudelo won the National Poetry Prize 1978 and 2017, as well as the Federico García Lorca prize in 2018.

Love Poem XIII

First there is loneliness.
In the innards and at the center of the soul:
this is the essence, the basic fact, the only certainty;
that solely your breath partners you,
that you shall always dance with your shadow:
that darkness is you. 
Your heart, that perplexing rasp, 
does not need grow embittered by your loner's fate;
let it wallow 
for love is a gift that one day arrives by itself.

But first there is loneliness, 
and you are alone,
you are alone with your original sin—with yourself.

Perhaps one night, at nine,
love will appear and everything crashes and something is lit within you,
and you become someone else, less bitter, more blithe;
but do not forget, especially then,
when love arrives and emblazes you,  
that first and forever, there is your loneliness,
and then nothing
and after that, if it shall come, there is love.

— tr. Arturo Desimone

Poemas de amor XIII

Primero está la soledad.
En las entrañas y en el centro del alma:
ésta es la esencia, el dato básico, la única certeza;
que solamente tu respiración te acompaña,
que siempre bailarás con tu sombra,
que esa tiniebla eres tú.
Tu corazón, ese froto perplejo, no tiene que agriarse con tu sino solitario;
déjalo esperar sin esperanza
que el amor es un regalo que algún día llega por sí solo.

Pero primero está la soledad,
y tú estás solo,
tú estás solo con tu pecado original –contigo mismo–.

Acaso una noche, a las nueve,
aparece el amor y todo estalla y algo se ilumina dentro de ti,
y te vuelves otro, menos amargo, más dichoso;
pero no olvides, especialmente entonces,
cuando llegue el amor y te calcine,
que primero y siempre está tu soledad
y luego nada
y después, si ha de llegar, está el amor.