The last fragment.

And did you achieve what

you wanted in this life?

I achieved it.

And what did you want?

To consider myself loved, to feel

loved on this earth.

This simple yet profound exchange makes one reflect on the true essence of our desires in life. We often strive for various material possessions, career success, or social status. However, at the core, what many of us truly long for is the feeling of being loved and cherished. It is this sense of love that gives meaning and warmth to our existence. When we feel loved, we experience a sense of security, acceptance, and belonging. It allows us to be our true selves and to grow and thrive. In a world that can sometimes seem cold and harsh, the pursuit of love becomes even more crucial. It is what makes life worth living and gives us the strength to face its challenges.

Raymond Carver's poems exhibit a remarkable diversity in style, length, and subject matter. Some of them I found truly captivating, while others didn't quite resonate with me to the same extent.

As I neared the end of the book, it seemed to lose a bit of its momentum. The demands of my college courses had made it a rather lengthy process to complete, and by the time I finally did, I had grown a little tired of reading solely poetry. However, this is in no way a reflection on Raymond Carver himself.

I have a deep affection for his poetry precisely because it is so clean and clear. Despite its simplicity, it has the power to paint a vivid picture in the reader's mind. It doesn't rely on convoluted language or elaborate poetic devices, as it doesn't need to. It is beautiful in its own unadorned way, like a breath of fresh air in the literary landscape.

I firmly believe that one day, Raymond Carver will be remembered just as much for his poetry as he is for his outstanding short stories. And when that day arrives, I will be among the fortunate few who can say to the world, "I told you so." This collection was truly extraordinary.

Debo confesar que no me entusiasmaba del todo leer los poemas reunidos de Raymond Carver. Sus libros de cuentos (y algunos ensayos) me habían dejado una opinión dividida. ¿Ocurriría, como con muchos de sus personajes, que la reticencia alcanzaba un máximo y que la acción transcurría dentro de nosotros, haciéndonos pensar qué reflexiones pasaban dentro del personaje?

Afortunadamente no fue así. Raymond Carver es un gran poeta narrativo. Se me ocurre pensar en “The Phone Booth” o “Lemonade”. En sus dos últimos poemarios publicados en vida, alcanzó una forma de expresión transparente, sin muchos aspavientos. Donde el descubrimiento poético abandona casi por completo la metáfora para basarse sólo en la imagen.

Los poemas de Carver recogidos en este libro merecerían, tal vez, ser leídos en un orden diferente. Habría que empezar por el primero de los apéndices. Este libro es prolífico en ellos. Y leer los textos que, escritos en la época previa a «Fires» (1983), no aparecieron sino póstumamente en «No Heroics, Please» (1991). A partir de ahí puede retomarse secuencialmente la lectura.

No hay mucho más que pueda decir sobre este libro. Cada lector o lectora hará suyo tal o cual poema, dependiendo de lo que su experiencia de vida lo haga empatizar con su autor. Sólo recuerden que éste fue un alcohólico que centró su fuerza creativa en observar los detalles, usando una voz intimista, coloquial, sencilla, pero no por eso “simple”.

Someone, please, explain to Carver that poetry is one thing, and breaking stories into verses and passing them off as non-prose text is another.

And someone should also tell him that I could be moved even in front of his shopping lists - whether they are in poetry or prose, it's the same -, such is my love for how he tells and what he tells. There is a sense of reality and sadness in all this collection, right up to the last poems written just a few weeks before his death, which...

(Anyway, sooner or later Carver and I will pick up and go fishing somewhere - just him and me talking about this world and how we live and what we talk about when we talk about love -, and then I think you won't see me for a long time, but don't be afraid, sooner or later I'll return, or maybe not, it depends, in any case don't wait for us for dinner, there will be so much to discuss for such a long time, almost an eternity)