The blue cloud finally opens-just when the bell rings to let the Juana Ross School out for the weekend. (first sentence) - Marjorie Agosín

My whole view of the world and my sense of language and understanding, it's informed by my understanding of poetic language... It's the poet that informs, describes, feels, and understands.

To write meant to always be awake, willing to take risks, full of magic and happiness, eager to create and undo, because life was that way, like words.

Here in the United States where I have lived since I was a young girl, the solitude of exile makes me feel that so little is mine; that not even the sky has the same constellations. The trees and the faunas do not have the same names or sounds, or the rubbish the same smell. How does one recover the familiar? How does one name the unfamiliar? How can one be another or live in a foreign language? These are the dilemmas of one who writes in Spanish and lives in translation.