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Best Famous Octavio Paz Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Octavio Paz poems. This is a select list of the best famous Octavio Paz poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Octavio Paz poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of octavio paz poems.

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Written by Octavio Paz | Create an image from this poem

The Street

It’s a long and silent street.
I walk in the dark and trip and fall
and get up and step blindly
on the mute stones and dry leaves
and someone behind me is also walking:
if I stop, he stops;
if I run,, he runs. I turn around: no one.
Everything is black, there is no exit,
and I turn and turn corners
that always lead to the street
where no one waits for me, no one follows,
where I follow a man who trips
and gets up and says when he sees me: no one.

Written by Octavio Paz | Create an image from this poem

Between going and staying the day wavers

 Between going and staying the day wavers, 
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay where the world in stillness rocks.
All is visible and all elusive, all is near and can't be touched.
Paper, book, pencil, glass, rest in the shade of their names.
Time throbbing in my temples repeats the same unchanging syllable of blood.
The light turns the indifferent wall into a ghostly theater of reflections.
I find myself in the middle of an eye, watching myself in its blank stare.
The moment scatters.
Motionless, I stay and go: I am a pause.
Written by Octavio Paz | Create an image from this poem


If you are the amber mare
              I am the road of blood
If you are the first snow
              I am he who lights the hearth of dawn
If you are the tower of night
              I am the spike burning in your mind
If you are the morning tide
              I am the first bird's cry
If you are the basket of oranges
              I am the knife of the sun
If you are the stone altar
              I am the sacrilegious hand
If you are the sleeping land
              I am the green cane
If you are the wind's leap
              I am the buried fire
If you are the water's mouth
              I am the mouth of moss
If you are the forest of the clouds
              I am the axe that parts it
If you are the profaned city
              I am the rain of consecration
If you are the yellow mountain
              I am the red arms of lichen
If you are the rising sun
              I am the road of blood
Written by Octavio Paz | Create an image from this poem

Humayun's Tomb

To the debate of wasps
the dialectic of monkeys
the chirping of statistics
it offers
             (tall pink flame
made of stone and air and birds
time at rest on the water)

the architecture of silence
Written by Octavio Paz | Create an image from this poem

from San Ildefonso Nocturne

I am at the entrance to a tunnel
These phrases drill through time.
Perhaps I am that which waits at the end of the tunnel.
I speak with eyes closed.
has planted
           a forest of magnetic needles
in my eyelids,
guides the thread of these words.
                                    The page
has become an ants’ nest.
                           The void
has settled at the pit of my stomach.
                                       I fall
endlessly through that void.
                              I fall without falling.
My hands are cold,
                    my feet cold –
but the alphabets are burning, burning.
makes and unmakes itself.
                           The night insists,
the night touches my forehead,
                                touches my thoughts.
What does it want?