Maybe I shouldn’t teach poetry. Yesterday I was teaching Ruben Dario, one of my favorite poets, and I started reading a poem aloud, and I got so emotional that my voice was breaking and I had tears in my eyes.
Before that, we read the mystics and the Golden Age, and it was the same thing. I can teach the Romantics because there isn’t a single Spanish Romantic poet who ever made me feel anything. (As opposed to English Romantics whom I love). But St John and Quevedo make me so emotional that I start blubbering in the midst of teaching.