To my beloved dad

On December 29th 2014, the extraordinary man who inspired me to be a dreamer, a fighter, a creator, a writer  left me alone with only emptiness and so much darkness in my heart. My dad passed away and my whole world just collapsed…

My father was an accomplished poet and he made a significant contribution to our local culture by writing about the lifestyle, feelings, beliefs, and customs of our people. He did this through a creative writing style and his work has been a real inspiration to me throughout my life. He was a loving father and husband, always caring for his family. I was and I always will be so proud of being his daughter.

A post is not enough to express how much I miss his support, his generosity, his encouraging words, his determination, his courage and that formidable strength to pursue every dream. I miss our chats; I miss his sparkling eyes and his smile when he listened to me talking about my goals and my plans. I miss him so much, every day…

It has been a hard time for me…but, now, I am trying to come back strong again… I owe that to my dad. And I will make him prouder than ever. I have big plans and dreams for this year and I am going to make them happen! Because now, he lives in my heart…

I have so many fond memories of him. I remembered he used to ask when I would have some time to translate his poems into English…and I answered: “Some day, dad…”

My poems by Asencio Villar

Where do my poems come from?

Maybe I cannot answer that…

Maybe they are given by the Universe,

maybe I hear them across my path.

I know they are born inside of me,

in my soul’s spring,

when tears gather,

and my voice start to sing.

Cry is their father

And every word, their mother!


Watched by my feelings,

they fulfil their destiny…

Some are innocent children,

Others are old, full of experience;

From my chest,

they are raised by inspiration,

and with emotion, they get dressed.

And they come to life

from that warm shelter

inside my heart.


They do not know a lot,

they are humble country verses;

they know so little

about great literature.

I know they are crude and wild,

because of their country essence.

But they try to bring joy

with humility and respect.


I give them to you

as a gift from a brother.

Some of them grow old,

waiting in silence.

Others were forgotten

as time went by.

Play some music, my friend,

if you want  to sing them.

Make them alive,

and I will say that they are mine.



Asencio Villar. Argentinean writer and poet. 

Mis versos (Original Version)

¿De dónde vienen mis versos?

Tal vez no pueda decirlo…

Si me los dicta el camino

O me los da el Universo…

Sé que me nacen adentro,

en el manantial del alma…

Donde se gestan las lágrimas

Y surge clarito el canto…

¡Por Padre tienen el llanto

Y por madre la palabra…!


Ahijados del sentimiento

van andando su destino…

Unos, inocentes como niño,

Otros, experiencia de viejo;

regalones de mi pecho,

los cría la inspiración…

Me los viste la emoción

cuando surgen a la vida,

desde la ardiente guarida

del rancho del corazón.


No tienen mucha cultura

mis pobres rimas camperas;

Poco saben de los temas

de la gran literatura…

Reconozco que es ruda

la formación de mis versos.

Unos pocos son traviesos

por costumbre campesina…

tratan de llevar alegría,

con humildad y respeto.


Ansi nomas se los dejo…

Como regalo de hermano…

Algunas ya son ancianos

por esperar en silencio…

Otros a través del tiempo

han quedado en el olvido.

Póngale música, amigo,

si algo quiere cantar…

No tiene mas que avisar

pa’ que diga que son míos.

Villar, Asencio. (2007) La Razón de mi Canto. Versos Criollos. Mendoza, Argentina. ISBN: 978-987-05-2778-7