Friday, September 27

Borges and Livio Bacchi Wilcock are over for dinner. We're reading poems.

Antonio Porchia

I believe I've discovered that Porchia is an author of a few epigrams.
BORGES: "If Porchia were an ancient author he would would be one of the greatest poets of the world. He would beat Heraclitus on his own turf."
BIOY: "And we'd know his poems by heart. Perhaps Wally would have translated and annotated them."
BORGES: "But he isn't an ancient. He's forgotten. If they asked you who were the best Argentinian poets, the list wouldn't include Porchia."

I also think I've recognized an entry by that Albino Gomez, member of the Frondizi administration, who was at my side during the banquet for Tedin Uriburu. The guy told me he had written the lyrics to a tango for Piazzolla. And right here in front of me are some lyrics for a tango for Piazzolla.

The submissions are teeming with poems about creole ancestors and the Palermo barrio.
BIOY: "They aren't bad, above all for the tone. Their merits are chiefly that of omission: the omission of discordant notes. Nothing more."
BORGES: "Their ancestors were defined by the times they lived in. One would not differentiate them from his own contemporaries. Many people write poems like that nowadays."
BIOY: "There are long genealogies of poets who write like that." I don't conclude with my thought: "They start with your books and imitate them."