The last book published by the poet Seville Victor Jimenez -Not his last book, since he rewrote it in 2014- It is now published by Alcala de Guadaira City Hall As the first issue of a collection of works that shouldn’t fall on deaf ears because the City of Bakers is truly a place with enough inspiration to give itself a plethora of posts about itself. It is good that the beginning of the intended collection is the collection of poems by Victor Jiménez “For children who are still‘, as he reads his devotion, even though he is rightfully qualified Lotgardo Garcia in the leadRather go”To the child we carry inside and from whom we have parted one day, feeling like beggars in exile, deprived of the paradise of light.It is not surprising that Jiménez himself closes business with one of the many tenths or spinel How well do you drive?Where time is between hands / games and fantasies / kisses and songs / those distant days / in the hot summer / that give way to adolescence. / Where shine and essence / Lived those evenings. / The faintness of many things / In the distance and absence“.
well, that, where But in Living golden memory and photographs poets like him. everyone builds lament About what you deserve, and it is true that many greats have reached the last room in the hearts of readers. self-election His elegance has always been rooted in dealing with space and time that are gone forever and not directly with themselves. Ask him again Juan Ramon with him Silveror for far away town From ROSEMARY MOROPnot to mention field things From Munoz Rojas or usual Oknus From Cernoda. In the end, the weather and the What I won’t do to start over They will continue to be the eternal subjects when poets do not dedicate themselves to practice. But, in addition, Victor Jiménez allows himself to be influenced here, willingly, with small coins from Machadonext to the tree Lorca or margarita Robin. He is a poet, as I say Borges, more proud of what he reads. It is noticeable, by mastery of synthesis and syntax, of that consonant rhyme that transports us to another age of Innocence It is one of those classic passages that belong to Vertigo to me Quartet pass through Romanticoin addition to these sonnets Which the poet puts well on the stick of adventure: “With a wooden sword, / Bow and arrows in his sleeve, / The boy played next, / Bravely as a science / And with adventurous strength / Leaving blood, / To conquer the castle / The Moors on the frontier. / Under the yellow sun / That crowned the castle / Violent and fair / Besieged a wall / The enemy’s watchtower / The armies of that warriorEverything, after all, sepia adventure In that central part of the book about explorers, Indians, Moors, and Christians…
Bread at dawn
The whole book smells of bread, as befits those many years needy children They saw how the train arrivedFrom Carmona through the valleyI waited at the stationLoading mules / mules with fresh bread / good and simple people“who-that”Approaching the beaches / At the time of illusion“…the child who was himself appears at dawn.”In shorts / On the way to school / Carrying her bag / With books and notebooks“yes”He passes on the street / Myrina in his town / Towards the Salesian / Like other comrades / In the soul of his child / Sparkling and good / Color / Mysterious from the sky / And the smell that comes out already / From the furnaces they opened, filled the heart, and rejoiced also…”. As in many other poems, the roundness of the end of this poem gives the exact measure of the sensuality of the entire book: “…And the child remained away, / But to a man it is the day, / Meditating and quiet, / As he died again, / Winter morning / Under the bluish gray / Eternal sky, / Down Merina Street / From his beloved town-house / From closed doors / From those furnaces/ The smell / fresh bread still gets to him“.
Fears, hurt and high flights
Childish fear, so sparkling with that longing for freedom that the homeland which is only childhood, passes tenderly in the book, as “The Evil Tramp / From Lamina Street / Or That Other, To The Canina / On The Ball Of The World“.but also other people’s pranks or pranks.”Satisfied from the ground / The boy looks at the herd / With a mischievous look / The mischievous criminal / The suddenly provoked / The frightened pilot‘,” he writes, certainly remembering those wanderings with his friends in Alcalá, with Kites Tambourines in the air, or with bikes Down the slopes, or with those amphibians of sigh: “The shirt is torn and dirty, / Like a rogue in rags, / The little one, with two frogs / And a mischievous smile, / He comes home quickly. / And he can think of nothing / Better than playing a joke / Let go – What a surprise! – / With the family at the table, / The frogs in the salad“.
Finally, the collection of poems invokes other spheres of freedom such as football, sweet shops or pirate fantasies about Guadaíra, which seems to constitute the first foray into poetry for children by this poet who, like everyone else, never ceased to be a child, not even when He decided to start publishing. Since then, he has dozens of poetry collections, among which are notable poems things for his shadow (Adonis Group, Madrid, 1999), the latest With everything we lose (Song and Story Books, Jerez, 2019), or by Tango to cheat sadness (Renaissance, Seville, 2003) or character (Sestola Island, Seville, 2011). For children and for those who still carry them inside, it wouldn’t be bad if some Jimenez’s poems illustrate places in Alcalá where only poetry dares to stand the test of time.