The poetic landscape of Octavio Paz is often characterized by its profound engagement with the nature of existence, consciousness, and the elusive quality of time. His short, evocative poem, “Entre irse y quedarse el día vacila” (variously translated as “Between Going and Staying the Day Wavers” or “Between staying and going the day wavers”), serves as a succinct yet incredibly rich canvas for exploring these very themes, particularly the complex and subjective depiction of temporality. This poem does not present time as a linear, measurable progression, but rather as a fluid, ambiguous, and deeply felt experience, intimately intertwined with states of being, light, silence, and the subtle interplay of presence and absence. It encapsulates a moment of suspended animation, where the conventional march of hours is dissolved into an indeterminate duration, reflecting an internal psychological state as much as an external temporal reality.

Paz, a Nobel laureate, consistently challenged the conventional understanding of reality, emphasizing the liminal, the paradoxical, and the transformative. In this poem, he strips away the rigidity of chronological time, presenting it as a pliable element, susceptible to the forces of human consciousness and emotion. The very title sets the stage for this deconstruction, introducing a day that is not merely passing but “wavering” – an act of indecision, a state of perpetual oscillation between two poles. This immediately establishes a temporal zone that is neither moving forward decisively nor entirely static, but caught in a dynamic equilibrium, a poignant reflection of existential uncertainty and the human struggle with choice and consequence. The poem invites readers into this unique temporal space, prompting a re-evaluation of how time is perceived, not as an external framework, but as an internal, living phenomenon.

The Liminality of the Title and Its Temporal Implication

The profound depiction of time in “Between Going and Staying the Day Wavers” begins unequivocally with its title: “Entre irse y quedarse el día vacila.” This phrase instantly establishes a liminal temporal zone, a state of suspended animation that defies easy categorization. The “day” is not simply progressing from dawn to dusk; rather, it “wavers” (vacila) between two opposing actions – “going” (irse) and “staying” (quedarse). This wavering is not merely a physical oscillation but an existential hesitation, imbuing the very fabric of time with indecision and ambiguity. It suggests a moment perpetually caught in transition, unable to fully commit to either advancement or stasis.

This initial premise radically departs from a linear understanding of time. A linear model implies a clear start, middle, and end, a continuous forward movement. However, the wavering day resists this linearity. It exists in a state of irresolution, a prolonged present moment that is neither fully moving towards a future nor entirely rooted in a fixed point. This creates a sense of temporal ambiguity, where the precise hour or duration becomes irrelevant. What matters is the quality of this time – its hesitancy, its charged stillness. The “day” here transcends its meteorological definition, becoming a metaphor for a state of being, a consciousness suspended between possibilities, a profound moment of contemplation or inaction where the normal flow of time is disrupted and internalized. The very act of the day wavering mirrors the human experience of doubt, indecision, and the often-protracted process of coming to terms with a choice, or the inability to make one.

The Suspended Present Moment

One of the most striking aspects of the poem’s temporal depiction is its profound emphasis on an extended, suspended present moment. The entire poem unfolds within this singular, seemingly unending “now.” There is no explicit reference to the past, no anticipation of the future; the linguistic fabric of the poem, primarily employing present tense verbs, anchors the reader firmly within this arrested duration. Phrases like “la luz se acumula,” “el agua tiembla,” “el silencio está a punto de irse,” and “las sombras transparentes se estiran” all describe ongoing actions, creating a vivid tableau of a moment that is unfolding but not progressing.

This suspension is not one of absolute stillness, but rather a dynamic stasis, a moment charged with potential movement that never fully actualizes. The light “accumulates,” suggesting a slow, deliberate gathering rather than a swift shift. The water “trembles” but does not flow, indicating an internal vibration rather than external motion. The silence is “about to go” but remains, held in a fragile equilibrium. This continuous present tense, devoid of temporal adverbs that might anchor it to a specific point in a linear timeline, contributes to a sensation of timelessness. The “day” described is not a mere twenty-four-hour period; it is an archetypal day, an eternal present, where the micro-movements within it are magnified, and the boundaries between instants blur. This extended present is intensely subjective, experienced internally by a consciousness absorbed in its own perceptions and sensations, rather than externally measured by a clock. It is a moment of deep introspection, where external time has lost its meaning, yielding to an internal, resonant duration.

Subjectivity of Time and Internal Landscape

Paz masterfully depicts time not as an objective, external framework but as an inherently subjective experience, deeply intertwined with the internal landscape of the speaker (and by extension, the reader). The “wavering” of the day is a direct projection of an internal state of indecision, doubt, or contemplation. The poem externalizes an inner emotional and psychological reality, suggesting that time’s perceived flow or arrest is a function of human consciousness.

The poem’s images—the accumulating light, the trembling water, the hesitant silence, the stretching shadows—all contribute to this subjective temporal experience. These are not objective measurements but rather sensory perceptions that are felt and interpreted by a conscious observer. The “light accumulates” not as a scientific phenomenon, but as a felt sensation, perhaps a slow building of intensity within a particular emotional state. The “water trembles” as if reflecting an inner tremor or uncertainty. Even the “silence,” often perceived as the absence of sound, is given an active, almost anxious quality (“about to go”), suggesting a tension within the observer’s mind. This anthropomorphization of natural elements ties the passage of time inextricably to human emotion and perception. The duration of the moment is stretched or condensed not by external forces, but by the weight of an inner experience – be it anticipation, uncertainty, or a profound sense of being. The poem suggests that when one is caught in a state of intense internal processing, external time markers become secondary, yielding to the rhythm of one’s own thoughts and feelings. This makes the poem’s temporal depiction a deeply personal and emotionally resonant one.

Light, Shadow, and the Embodiment of Time

In Paz’s poetry, light and shadow are rarely mere atmospheric details; they are active agents, embodying concepts and influencing perception. In “Between Going and Staying the Day Wavers,” they become the primary means by which time is depicted, but in a highly unconventional manner. Instead of marking clear transitions (like dawn to noon to dusk), they portray a stalled, hesitant movement, challenging the linear progression of a day.

“La luz se acumula” (“The light accumulates”) is a key phrase. Light doesn’t simply change or pass; it accumulates. This verb choice suggests a slow, almost gravitational gathering, a density rather than a flow. It implies a protracted process, a building up of intensity over an indeterminate period, rather than a swift, discernible shift from one moment to the next. This accumulation implies that the light is not moving towards an eventual dissipation (like dusk) or a final state, but is rather settling into a deeper, more concentrated present. It gives light a physical, almost viscous quality, allowing it to embody a kind of time that is dense and unmoving, yet full.

Similarly, the phrase “las sombras transparentes se estiran” (“transparent shadows stretch out”) further complicates the temporal portrayal. Shadows are traditionally associated with the receding light of day, signaling its decline. However, these shadows are “transparent,” a paradox that blurs the line between light and darkness, presence and absence. The transparency suggests a quality of indistinctness, an inability for the shadows to fully assert themselves, much like the day’s inability to fully “go” or “stay.” Their “stretching out” implies a slow, gradual elongation, but again, without a clear endpoint or direction. This stretching is not indicative of rapid progression but of a languid, unhurried unfolding. The very presence of shadows implies that the light, even as it accumulates, is not absolute; there is always an interplay, a tension. This interplay of light and shadow, both hesitant and prolonged, makes the passage of time feel like a subtle, almost imperceptible breathing, rather than a decisive march. They become visual metaphors for the poem’s suspended duration, embodying the wavering state itself.

The Paradox of Movement and Stasis

The poem is a masterclass in presenting a paradox: a sense of potential movement inextricably linked with a pervasive stillness. The central tension, “going and staying,” immediately sets up this dynamic. There is an inherent implication of motion (“going”) and an opposing state of rest (“staying”), yet the day is caught perpetually between them. It never fully actualizes either. This creates a state of “dynamic stasis,” where time is not stagnant but actively resisting progression.

The imagery reinforces this paradox. The “water trembles” but does not flow, signifying an internal vibration or agitation without external displacement. The water is alive, responsive, but locked in place. The “silence is about to go” yet remains, signifying an imminent departure that never occurs, keeping the quietude intact but charged with anticipation. These are states of being on the verge, moments of perpetual transition that never complete their journey. This active suppression of completion is key to understanding the poem’s unique temporality. The time of the poem is not passive; it is deliberately held back, suspended by an unseen force or an internal condition. This paradoxical blend of movement and stasis reflects a deeper existential condition, where life is a continuous state of becoming, always on the cusp of something new, yet perpetually rooted in its current moment of unresolved tension. The day is alive, wavering, brimming with unfulfilled potential, creating a temporal experience that is simultaneously vibrant and fixed.

Absence, Presence, and the Vacuum of Time

While not explicitly stated, the poem’s deep emotional resonance and its focus on an internal state often imply the influence of human relationships, particularly the dynamic between presence and absence. In many of Paz’s works, the beloved, whether present or absent, significantly alters the perception of time. In “Between Going and Staying the Day Wavers,” the ambiguity of the “you” or the unstated subject allows for this interpretation. The poem can be read as a waiting, a profound moment of anticipation for someone’s arrival or departure, which profoundly distorts the natural flow of time.

When one waits, time stretches, becoming elastic and subjective. Minutes can feel like hours, and the world seems to pause, aligning itself with the internal vigil. The “wavering” of the day, the hesitant accumulation of light, the trembling water, and the silent tension could all be interpreted as reflections of a mind pre-occupied with the presence or absence of another. If the “going” refers to a departure or the “staying” to an arrival, the day’s indecision mirrors the speaker’s own emotional uncertainty or the unresolved state of a relationship. The absence of a clear temporal marker, the lack of a definite beginning or end to this “day,” creates a temporal vacuum that is filled by the weight of this unstated human connection. The world seems to hold its breath, waiting, and in this waiting, the conventional boundaries of time dissolve, yielding to a duration shaped by longing, memory, or anticipation. This makes the poem’s temporal depiction not just philosophical, but deeply human and emotionally charged, where time becomes a measure of desire or separation.

Metaphorical Language and Sensory Depiction

Paz’s mastery of metaphorical language is crucial to how time is depicted as a tangible, mutable entity rather than an abstract concept. Each carefully chosen image contributes to the poem’s unique temporal texture:

  • “El día vacila” (The day wavers): This core metaphor immediately personifies the day, attributing to it a human quality of indecision. Days do not literally waver; they progress. By assigning this action, Paz transforms time from a fixed measurement into a dynamic, uncertain process, a living entity that is hesitant and unresolved. This sets the entire temporal tone, presenting time as something that can be swayed and influenced, rather than an unstoppable force.

  • “La luz se acumula” (The light accumulates): Instead of “light falls” or “light shines,” the verb “accumulates” suggests a slow, almost laborious gathering. It imbues light with substance and weight, making its presence feel denser and more protracted. This challenges the notion of light as merely fleeting or changing, making its progression feel stalled, or at least, significantly slowed down. It’s a visual representation of time building up, rather than passing by.

  • “El agua tiembla” (The water trembles): Water, a universal symbol of flux and flow, is here depicted as trembling. Trembling implies an internal vibration, a state of being on the verge of movement, but without actual displacement. It suggests agitation or anticipation, but held in check. This image arrests the typical flow of water, and by extension, the flow of time, creating a sense of dynamic suspension. The fluidity is there, but it’s an arrested fluidity, hinting at underlying tension rather than smooth passage.

  • “El silencio está a punto de irse” (The silence is about to go): Silence, an absence of sound, is given an active, almost anxious presence. The phrase “about to go” creates a strong sense of imminence, a fragile state where the silence is perpetually on the brink of breaking, yet it never does within the poem’s scope. This contributes to the feeling of a moment stretched taut, charged with unfulfilled potential, keeping the duration in a state of unresolved tension. It is a moment prolonged by its own internal resistance to change.

  • “Las sombras transparentes se estiran” (Transparent shadows stretch out): This oxymoron (“transparent shadows”) further emphasizes the ambiguous, liminal nature of the temporal setting. Shadows usually imply darkness and density, marking the clear transition from day to night. But “transparent” shadows suggest a delicate, indistinct quality, blurring the line between light and darkness, presence and absence. Their “stretching out” implies a slow, gradual elongation, but without the definitive onset of night, keeping the day in its indeterminate, wavering state.

Through these potent metaphors, Paz transforms abstract time into a sensory experience. The reader doesn’t just understand time intellectually; they feel its accumulation, its trembling, its hesitation. The poem becomes a physical manifestation of time as a tangible, almost breathable atmosphere, where subtle sensory details are the primary markers of its unique, suspended progression.

Philosophical Dimensions

Paz’s depiction of time in this poem extends beyond mere poetic technique; it delves into profound philosophical questions about existence, perception, and the nature of reality, themes central to his broader body of work. The “wavering” day can be interpreted as a microcosm of the human condition itself – a perpetual state of indecision, a search for meaning in a world of ambiguity, and the inherent ephemerality of being.

The suspended present moment, for instance, echoes philosophical concepts of the “eternal now” or the idea that true existence resides solely in the present, unburdened by past regrets or future anxieties. By arresting time, Paz invites a deeper engagement with the immediate moment, suggesting that profound experience occurs when one detaches from chronological linearity and immerses oneself fully in the quality of the present. This aligns with existentialist thought, which emphasizes the freedom and burden of choice, and the responsibility of defining oneself in each passing (or wavering) instant.

Furthermore, the poem’s ambiguity – the oscillation between “going” and “staying” – mirrors the philosophical dilemma of action versus inaction, commitment versus detachment. It can be seen as a contemplation on the nature of choice itself: sometimes the most significant “action” is to remain poised, to inhabit the space of indecision, allowing possibilities to unfold or coalesce. This aligns with Paz’s interest in liminal spaces, those thresholds where opposing forces meet and create a new, often paradoxical, reality. The wavering day, then, is not just a time marker, but a philosophical statement about the human experience of constantly being “in between” – between birth and death, presence and absence, certainty and doubt. It suggests that reality, as perceived by consciousness, is often less about definitive progression and more about a continuous state of flux, negotiation, and unresolved potential. The poem, through its unique temporal lens, becomes a meditation on the very fluidity of being and the subjective construction of our lived experience.

Syntactic and Rhythmic Elements

The poem’s succinct structure and deliberate rhythmic qualities further contribute to its unique temporal depiction. The short lines and sparse language create a contemplative, almost meditative rhythm that slows down the reading experience, forcing the reader to linger on each image and phrase. There are no expansive narrative arcs or complex sentence structures that might propel the reader forward. Instead, each line functions almost as a snapshot, a moment captured and held.

The absence of explicit temporal adverbs (e.g., “quickly,” “later,” “yesterday”) is crucial. This lack of conventional markers prevents the reader from anchoring the “day” within a chronological framework, reinforcing its subjective and suspended nature. The verbs, as discussed, are predominantly in the present tense, solidifying the continuous “now.” The poem relies heavily on imagery and the sensory experience to convey its meaning, rather than on direct temporal narration.

The poem also employs a certain level of enjambment (lines running into the next without a grammatical pause) within its brevity, which can create a sense of breathlessness or a continuous flow of thought that, paradoxically, contributes to the suspended feeling. For example, “Entre irse y quedarse / el día vacila” links the action directly to the subject, creating a fluid transition that nevertheless describes a state of hesitation. The overall effect is a poem that breathes slowly, expands inwardly, and invites the reader to enter its unique, non-linear temporality, reinforcing the idea that time in this context is not a sequence of events but a prolonged, deeply felt state of being. The very act of reading the poem becomes an enactment of its temporal theme, as the reader is drawn into its deliberate, unhurried rhythm, experiencing the wavering day firsthand.

Octavio Paz’s “Between Going and Staying the Day Wavers” offers a masterfully nuanced and deeply philosophical portrayal of time, radically diverging from its conventional, linear understanding. The poem constructs a unique temporal landscape where the day itself becomes an embodiment of indecision and flux, trapped in a dynamic equilibrium between two opposing states. This liminality is not merely a poetic device but a profound exploration of consciousness, emotion, and the elusive nature of reality. By focusing on an extended, suspended present moment, Paz invites the reader into an experience where external chronological markers cease to matter, replaced by an internal, subjective rhythm governed by perception, feeling, and the subtle interplay of light and shadow.

Through evocative metaphors and sensory details, Paz transforms time into a palpable, almost breathing entity. The “accumulating light,” the “trembling water,” and the “stretching transparent shadows” all contribute to a feeling of duration that is dense, hesitant, and charged with unfulfilled potential. This creates a paradox of active stasis, where the world is alive with subtle movements, yet unwilling or unable to progress definitively. The poem thus becomes a meditation on the human condition of perpetual becoming, the tension between what is and what could be, and the profound impact of presence or absence on our subjective experience of time. The concise syntax and contemplative rhythm further draw the reader into this unique temporality, allowing them to inhabit the wavering day.

Ultimately, “Between Going and Staying the Day Wavers” stands as a testament to Paz’s genius in distilling complex philosophical ideas into potent, accessible verse. The poem does not merely describe the passage of time; it reimagines it as a living, breathing phenomenon, deeply intertwined with our inner lives. It encourages a re-evaluation of how we perceive time, suggesting that its truest form might not be in external measurements, but in the quality of a sustained, deeply felt moment, perpetually poised on the brink of what is and what is to come, endlessly wavering between the poles of being.