Wasn't the discovery strange for the discoverer? The seafarers of past centuries set foot on foreign shores, driven by the hope of riches. But what did they really SEE? The world they found was inhabited, already shaped by other ways of life, other ideas. But in their eyes , the only thing I would assume they did SEE was a canvas onto which they projected their own desires. What was a new beginning for them was the end of an established order for others.

Today, people are once again standing at the borders, but this time it is not the explorers, but those who are searching. They are not coming out of a thirst for adventure, but out of necessity. But while the ships of the past set sail for open seas, the boats of today encounter closed harbors. Voices echo across the water, questions remain unanswered. Has the world grown, or have only the paths shifted?

Signs can be deceptive, the truth often remains hidden. Structures that once shaped the world continue to have an effect, sometimes invisible, but noticeable in the paths people take, in the places they leave and in those they do not reach.

Couldn't movement be something natural? A continuation of what has always been? Or does the pattern persist, first exploration, then domination, then rejection? Spaces shape encounters, they open or close. If the past still reverberates in the present, are we not standing on a shore again or are we going to learn and grow ? The question is: what do we really want to “SEE“ this time? AND DO WE SEE ?

Emphasized also through the map, that shows only the outlines of the continent, the sea however in great detail, the poem is written from an outside, almost omniscient perspective.

What we know as architecture can not be understood clearly from this extract, however a great understanding of land and nature is tangible. How can we learn to perceive our surrounding and our own heritage through poetry as well? And how can this then be translated into architecture?

Another important notion of the poem is the „unknown“, that is for example referenced in the phrases „inconsolable innocence“, the „pampas“ as „another white sea“ and the „ancient nocturnal people“. This is also quite present in the map that is attached to the poem. South America is represented as a white, „unknown“ surface, also touching upon the notion of emptiness, which reminds me of the text „Against the regime of Emptiness“ by Samia Henni.

Furthermore I´m wondering about the meaning of day and night that is repeatedly used in the text, it incorporates the cycles of nature and general concept of time (past, present future?), but how can we read this?

And then there are the consequences. The imagery of “abandoned houses” and “cruel rivers” lingers in my mind—these aren't signs of progress but of loss. It makes me wonder: does discovery actually create, or does it erase?

Connecting this to architecture, I wonder if we, as designers, face the same risk. Often, we see places only through the rules and expectations we already know, without noticing their true potential. This reading makes me reflect on how we could design in a more open way, without forcing a rigid vision.

Colonisation has a goal and does everything it can to achieve it. Getting to know the customs, the traditions, the environment. When the time comes, all it has to do is take what it wants.

It is a bit like a disease, you don't know you have it until you see the first symptoms.

All it leaves behind is the destruction of societies, homes and cultures. It doesn't try to understand its environment, it just takes everything in its stride.

It creates a distance between the locals and the colonisers that will never close. The fear of a hidden intention will always be present. Trust is broken.

Is it possible to create a society made up of colonised and colonisers?

At the point of the colonization the Americas have culture, tradition and ways of living, that are not practiced and accepted in Europe. The colonizers do not address that, blinded by the riches this untouched continent has to offer.

The results are still visible today - exhaustion of the land, of its resources, and full oppression of the natives.

just like architecture, poetry allows to invent something that can be far from the reality it stands in

both can disregard the real circumstances of life in the pursuit of something more thrilling, more exciting and extravagant

both seem to long to “invent” and “discover” - often forgetting about what is already there

both have the power to meet people where they are and respond to their actual needs

but at the same time, both have the power to suppress

and both tend to prefer to speak to the more privileged

and to disregard those that would need the voice that poetry or architecture could provide

In architecture, this could mean approaching space without imposing rigid structures or theories on it, but letting the place itself shape the understanding. Perhaps it is not a loss to be ‘blinded’, but an opportunity to reorient oneself - to notice things that one would normally overlook. Rather than following a fixed map, it's about navigating through the experience, through what is actually there, and letting that guide you.

Why does the gift of showing oneself betray hope? Who is revealing themselves – and for whom?

Is it the original inhabitants, unveiling their culture in the hope of recognition? Or is it the colonizer, presenting their "civilization" as a "gift", convinced that it brings value to the world? But what if this encounter was never a true dialogue, but an imposition? What if what was shown was not understood, but appropriated?

What does this mean today? Can visibility ever truly bring protection or recognition? Or does it make one vulnerable? Is being seen the same as being heard – or merely consumed, like a neighborhood that becomes "discovered", only to lose itself in the process?

The line “[…] the empty light that still calls us” suggests a lingering temptation to continue exploring and claiming land. The final words, “to begin another past,” reflect the cyclical nature of colonization, implying that it will persist and repeat itself.

The greed for gold drove the colonizers to exploit both, people and nature.At the same time, they constructed cities and infrastructures that enabled them to assert power and maintain control. This underlines how architecture can function as a tool of colonization. In this context, Peter A. Makachias work is particularly relevant, where he distinguishes between "high architecture“ - modern and monumental, institutional buildings - and the everyday architecture shaped by local communities.

"And neither daytime nor nighttime did the third time not arrive like an isle and smoothly without violating deceits?“ This line suggests that colonization did not always begin with overt violence but often unfolded gradually, for example through trade or religious missions. Yet, it can also be interpreted in relation to architecture. Could the "third arrival" represent a postcolonial architectural approach, as described by Makachia in his concept of modern vernacular? A form of architecture that integrates rather than imposes, that adapts rather than conquers?

Like “the sweetness of another white sea inexistent”, these spaces are rendered invisible until someone decides to rediscover them. But who determines whether a landscape is empty or full? Is a slum empty because it does not follow Western urban logic? Is a forest empty until it is parceled out for development?

The poem shows how power defines reality through language: the true signal lies and deceives like the day. In urban planning, words shape the landscape before construction even begins. Declaring a place abandoned is the first step toward seizing it. Perhaps the real question is: who has the right to imagine and decide the fate of a space that was never truly empty?

This leads me to wonder—how does the use of physically and metaphorically spatialised language, poetry, impart an image of a city and experience in a more multimodal way that would then contribute to an architectural understanding?

Further, the text places with conviction the space in its landscape, evoking the sea, the mountains, the pampas, thus bringing the reader to a more evocative encounter with the place. In the text I find an examination of the voice, of agency, a probing of the animate and inanimate in a newly encountered world and time to be a fascinating aspect of engaging with space. The emotion of the explorer and the explored, the encounter of land and sea, all become so much more vivid in expression. I am curious about the ways in which temporalities can be better translated in this way, better understood, is it a way to communicate at the intersection of architecture, language, history, and philosophy—to write space?

This prompts me wonder how does using imagery and rhythm in language translate into physical space and an understanding of it? Is it a way to conduct research? To transmit the illusion of perception, of changing understandings, for example, of colonisation?

Can poetry or rather writing/designing with emotion help us to imagine cities that aren’t obscured by our ambitions, or the roles prescribed to ourselves? How can it deepen our understanding of place, especially places which we are yet to experience or discover?

This line questions the nature of discovery, the colonializing that supposedly „discover“ a territory, do not discover it in any true sense, their findings were rather predetermined by their own preconceptions and desires. „The naked people as amongst their gods“ also shows this view on a landscape and culture that is to be claimed by the colonializers, rather than seeing the colonialized beings with their own culture and history. This attitude is also shown in the poem with this question: „Did the first passion of gold in this way not leave the navigator blind?“. The colonial obsession for gold and therefore wealth and power made the colonializers „blind“ of truly seeing what was before their arrival. Also, the poem does not give voice to the colonized.

All this clearly shows how colonial perceptions distort the reality they were confronted with. Can this ignorance towards existing ever lead to a fruitful urban development without discrimination and with equality for everyone living in it?

The theme of misleading appearances is also repeatedly emphasized. For instance, the navigator's passion for gold is described as blinding, symbolizing how the pursuit of material gain or superficial clarity can obscure deeper truths. Time is another important motif in the poem, suggesting a cyclical understanding where past, present, and future intertwine. Destiny is portrayed as emerging gently from missteps, implying that mistakes or errors might ultimately lead to deeper insights or truths.

Natural elements, such as the sea, wind, and mountains, serve as prominent symbols in the poem. They represent not only the physical world but also the forces that shape human experience, evoking both beauty and indifference in their vastness and mystery.

While reading this poem, the following questions came to mind:

- What does it suggest about the relationship between discovery and misunderstanding?

- What might it suggest about the human desire to find meaning or truth in the unknown?

- Is destiny presented as something inevitable, or is it shaped by human error and generosity?

This theme of misinterpretation is echoed in the imagery of “abandoned houses” and “cruel rivers”, which suggest that discovery often leads to loss, erasure and destruction, leaving behind a legacy of devastation and forgotten histories, rather than progress.

The attached map representing an empty, white South America, reflects the erasure of indigenous cultures, as explorers project their desires onto a land they fail to truly understand.

Considering the other side of the story, I was reminded of Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, which describes the daily life and struggles of Igbo villagers once British colonial rule and missionaries arrive. The protagonist, Okonkwo, is unwilling and unable to accept or adapt to the new rules, laws, and social hierarchies. His resistance culminates in his tragic suicide.

For me, the notion of intrusion becomes really strong in this poem, which leaves me with the question: Could encounter at eye level have happened if travel, exploration, and exposure had been free from power hierarchies? The poem’s critique of colonial exploration highlights the imbalance of power that shapes these encounters, where discovery often equates to domination rather than genuine understanding. If exploration had been driven by curiosity, respect, and equality rather than conquest and greed, perhaps the exchange between cultures could have been more mutual and transformative, rather than exploitative. This question makes me reflect on how much history could have been different if these power dynamics were absent...worth a dream.

The urban issue at stake in the poem is the relationship between the built environment and the natural landscape. It reflects on how urbanization and architectural practices can either harmonize with or disrupt the natural beauty and cultural heritage of South America. This tension highlights the need for thoughtful and sustainable urban development that respects and integrates the region's unique characteristics.

We can then ask ourselves, how can contemporary urban planning and architectural practices in South America reconcile the demands of modern development with the preservation of cultural identity and natural landscapes?

This might be due to the way it is written and uses words, especially combinations of words that are contrary and thus create a certain tension or even paradox. For example, words appear in the same line in pairs like “smoothly/violating”, “abandoned/house”, “true/deceive”. It creates an atmosphere of ambiguity and mystery, that becomes threatening due to words with negative connotations like “violate” or “deceive”.

The way the poem is written suggests for me the story of a foreign people discovering and colonizing a peaceful land and reflects about the fate of the “discovered” and colonized landscape and people. One line stood out to me: “did the path not seek its opening probing on the coast like in the night the eye its adventure”. The paradox of a human eye seeking anything at night struck me with its impact. In my opinion it implied blindness, ignorance and arrogance, maybe bravery.

The concept of trying to see at night reminds me of the ambition of learning or trying to understand new concepts. With our prerequisites, we might see some shadows and grasp some ideas, but the reality of the night remains tainted by our perception. There might be other, truer ways to discover truth learn about something, but we are hindered by what and how we are.

This makes me wonder – how might we try to learn and acquire new knowledge without being biased and hindered by our nature and past?

The line „Did the first passion of gold in this way not leave the navigator blind?“ Talks about the greed of the new settlers, that were blinded by the resources they could extract in their new found land, instead of seeing the potential and peace of the untouched. 

It urges the reader to step back and see the potential in the rest of the land like „the wild birds and uncertain seas.“ Applying this to architecture means to me, that a planer or settler in the case of the poem, can never truly understand a land without emerging oneself into it and experiencing it itself or taking into consideration the people that already life in it. 

The newly arriving sailors I would guess are the Europeans setting foot in South America. The poem portrays a very strong duality between the explorers : “did the first passion of gold in this way not leave the navigator blind because of that clarity” and the inhabitants: “the naked peoples amongst their gods !”, with which the aspects of the old and new world, the spiritual and material clash in those newly discovered lands.

It results in an act of identity erasure and raises the question of how is it that some human groups decide they have the right to invade a spatial configuration of another group? How is it that some humans feel a superiority towards other although we are all the same species and the space itself becomes the very reflection of this mental invasion ?

I also understand the first passion of gold as the greed of our living beings, which is unfortunately also evident in today's world through wars.

The different times can be read as different temporalities in relation to architecture. We all experience time differently, perceive it differently and a building also changes over time. An interplay of change and a change in usage activities.

For me, the allegory of the abandoned house symbolizes a forgotten place beneath the permanent structures, which can also become the scene of a transformation. The powerful creations above will remain in our changeable world.

To what extent can architecture be understood as a space for discoveries and transformations?

It encourages us to interpret history not as a series of events, but as a continuous process of becoming. In other words, a dynamic causal network.

As the text was written in the form of a poem, it is important to point out that this was a conscious decision for the presentation of the facts. In general, it must always be remembered that words/the choice of words are always loaded with meaning and are always political, which is precisely why historiography can never be neutral. This is precisely why I have also put expressions that seem insignificant but are sensitive in my eyes in inverted commas.

When a reader is presented with a poem, it is automatically assumed that this type of text is to be interpreted. A poem is densely packed with information that must first be decoded: Ambiguities, hidden messages, stylistic elements, reflection on language, rhythm and other liberties of this form of writing.

So I would like to ask whether my fellow students have ever noticed a term in relation to architecture that seemed innocent or rational but turned out to be loaded with meaning or simply were not in agreement with the choice of words in the teaching?

Is there a goal, or is the search itself the meaning?

+ paradoxical twist - how can the past begin anew? Perhaps because history is not a straight path, but an eternal circle?

The freedom of form of the poem suggests to me that the content is almost negligible here. The form tells the story of the poem itself. The paragraphs and units are not chosen at random, but have a rhythm of their own. It is about consciously taking in the surroundings. The picture that is drawn of South America at the end also has a deeper meaning. The author is looking for a personal transformation through an understanding of natural forces. The impermanent also acts as a central element for me. On the one hand, the impermanent in relation to nature and life, and on the other hand, the impermanent is reflected in relation to freedom of form.

But does the poem really challenge the topic of colonialism, or just make it sound poetic? Calling indigenous people naked carries a very Eurocentric view, and the text stays overall vague instead of taking a clear stance, whether from our perspective or the other side. Was discovery an act of wonder or of destruction? The poem invites me to think critically about all these topics but it doesn’t really take a position.

Today we recognise that their exploitation was fundamentally wrong, but at the time exploration was seen as a right. Their excitement did not come from a genuine interest in new cultures or an appreciation of existing values, but rather from the advantages they sought to gain. At the same time, fear arose from the uncertainty and unknowns of their travels.

With this mindset, the land was not seen for what it really was, and the real treasure the knowledge and richness of the existing culture was ultimately lost.

"Did the first passion of gold in this way not leave the navigator blind..." The European perspective was clouded by greed, preventing them from recognizing the true value of the land, its cultures, and the multiple layers of its history. In her text, Tsing discusses "self-contained individuals," who act solely in their own interest and do not engage in collaboration. This seems to me to be an apt description of the driving forces behind colonization, which, with their "one against all survival" mentality, embody a capitalistic mindset leading to self-centered decisions.

It is fascinating how both texts, though very different, offer a new perspective on colonialism—whether through a poetic engagement with the topic or the opportunity to view the past from a new angle. From a European perspective, I find it difficult to fully immerse myself in the events of the past and understand them in depth. However, such texts help to reframe the discourse and open up alternative ways of understanding.

To what extent does Amereida truly succeed in overcoming the colonial structures of thought it seeks to question? Does its poetic reinterpretation of the "discovery" of America still reproduce Eurocentric perspectives by centering the viewpoint of the travelers?

I am inspired by the poetic translation of perception as described in Amereida. The poem shows how architecture can emerge from language and experience rather than fixed plans. But how does it become built space? Do architects simply follow impulses? How do words become architecture? Or is the end result not the most important thing?

It also talks about how history is shaped by mistakes and errors, yet these mistakes still contribute to shaping the future. The poem questions the truth we are taught, showing that it can often be deceptive or incomplete. There’s a theme of lost or ignored cultures, especially indigenous peoples, whose stories are buried but still offer important lessons.

Overall, the poem highlights the contradictions in discovery, where things are both revealed and hidden, and the way history is influenced by both errors and grace.

As this poem was written in 1967 by someone from these colonized lands, I wonder what impact or change it made to to take the power back by giving a voice to the colonized instead of the colonizer. How has this narrative evolved in today's context ?

Are the emotions and the stories conveyed in the text passed down from generation to generation?

The poem made me consider the role architects play in shaping spaces, which can be both physical and intangible. How can architects create environments that not only honor and respect the cultural identity of a community but also foster a sense of belonging and connection among its members? There’s the need to respect and understand the existing, the context and the development story. This ties into the broader themes of preserving, restoring, reconstructing, and designing spaces that resonate with the collective identity of the community.

with which the evening awards and destroys appearance..."

The "clarity without name" suggests a deceptive ambiguity, where the sailors believe they see clearly, but in reality, their vision is clouded by their own preconceptions and desires. This false clarity both "awards and destroys appearance". It gives the illusion of understanding while simultaneously distorting reality.

The act of discovery is deeply intertwined with misinterpretation and therefore never neutral. The land is not simply "found" but rather constructed in the minds of those who arrive. Especially in a colonial context, the land is perceived through a lens of possession, expectation, and projection rather than its independent existence.

This poem is about the invasion of Latin America. We are told how they arrived, guided by money on ships sailing uncertain seas. How they arrived by the coast and invaded the pampas. How the natives had to submit in the face of danger. During the conquest, I red that forts and towns were established throughout the country. For sure, this would have profoundly changed the way the country functioned. Not least in the way the inhabitants and their homes lived. This poem uses metaphors to explain the history of this continent. Could metaphors be used in architectural design today? Poetry is a way of synthesising complex information and making us think on an emotional level.  Architecture can also make us feel emotions. Is it possible to somehow link these two arts?

What stands out is the way the poem questions the established historical perspective. The traditional narrative of discovery is presented as one-sided, omitting the voices and experiences of those whose lands were invaded. How did it feel to witness strangers claiming ownership over what had existed long before their arrival? The poem hints at the gradual process of colonization – not always beginning with open violence, but often through trade, religion, and infrastructure.

Architecture plays a crucial role in this process, shaping power structures and control. This recalls Peter A. Makachia’s distinction between monumental, institutional buildings and the local, lived architecture of communities. Could the poem’s imagery of arrival and transformation be read as a commentary on how spaces are reshaped through colonization? And if so, is there space for an architecture that integrates rather than imposes?

The poem addresses the duality of colonisation, a gain and wealth for one side and the end for the other.

The poem thematises the ‘great cruel river’, which could stand for the consequences and structures that continue to oppress the land and its people to this day. The colonised are still in the shadows today. Their view of history is not part of a historical discourse, their culture has been forgotten and ignored, extraction of special earths are going on. Colonisation has been labelled in history as something that was unavoidable - everyone did it.

The end of the poem holds a certain hope for indigenous culture, it proposes a new historiography - the narrative of indigenous culture. The question that now arises for me is how can this story be rewritten? With all the events, cruelty and misunderstandings that have occurred in the past and continue to occur today? As a student in Europe, how can we deal with this heritage? What can we do to best support the local culture?

I also see a certain reference to architecture in the poem. As an architect, you usually design something in a specific place, which you often perceive and change very subjectively. This subjective perception is our ‘point of view’ and is characterised by our past. I think this can also lead to ‘misunderstandings’, because a project is often seen as a ‘gift’ without really knowing whether it really is that for everyone. Are we as architects sometimes also in the position of the colonisers? - We take up space with our projects with the intention of doing something good, which is perhaps not always the case. How can we overcome this discrepancy?

as a medium for re-naming and reclaiming spaces.

How does language influence our perception of identity?

Words and things - whether places, people, or concepts - are alienated from another, therefor names do not always correspond to what they signify. This reflects the idea that identity is not fixed but is continually reconstructed through language.

Poetry

as an act of cultural and historical inscription, allowing for new ways of seeing and understanding identity.

With that in mind, the main theme of this poem, for me, revolves around discovery, exploration, uncertainty, adventure, and the space for trial and error. The imagery of a sailing boat embarking on new and uncertain shores carries the poem, and with the accompanying map outlining the continent of South and Central America, it becomes clear which ships and sailors are being referenced.

The poem highlights the tension between discovery and founding: “and even with others – did the path not seek its opening – probing on the coast – like in the night the eye its adventure?”
I also interpret these lines to suggest that only through venturing into uncertain realms can one truly explore with modest curiosity, openness, and a “surprised gaze.”

I wonder, does an adventure into unknown spheres has to be a discovery that is marked, or can it remain a finding that is embraced with its openness and curiosity? And do they share the same consequences on the subject that is ventured?

Structural analysis:

The unconventional poem follows a free verse structure. The enjambment throughout the poem, along with rhetorical questions, generates a sense of movement just like the journey it describes. The lack of punctuation marks enhances the fluid movement of the poem even further. Using this linguistic device the readers thoughts and ideas are allowed to flow more freely in his mind.

Content:

Reinterpretation, deception and unearthing of history seem to be the core themes of the poem. The “sailors” who encounter the “naked peoples amongst their gods” emphasises the arrival of European pioneers in America. The “gold” that blinds the navigator could stand for destructive greed of the pioneers consuming the land with their arrogance and ignoring the beauty that lies behind the simplicity of the indigenous beliefs and traditions.

Besides all the critique that the poem evokes there is still a spark of positivity and the possibility of new beginnings. The error seems to not only create destruction and loss but also reflection, hope and learnings from the past.

Question:

Possession is not a moment but rather an ongoing event which leads to uncertainties, misbehaviour and oppression. Nevertheless generosity creates an antagonist to this sort of greedy possessive thoughts created by a system that takes more of humanity than it gives back.

The error used and described as a force that raises unexpected possibilities within failure. What is the possibility to challenge conventional narratives of history and progress concerning these narratives?

What if we were to look for parallels with architecture? It has a goal, a building. Uncertain ideas of how to get there are the starting point. Through countless iterations, the idea is formed, dropped, refined - in the end, a design results.

What are the architect's intentions? Wealth? To immortalise themselves in architecture? A spectacle?

(S. 2)

Whatever the case may be, architecture is left to its destiny. True architecture is not about perfection. It is in a constant state of change. Behind the original complacency of the design, it becomes apparent whether the architecture has substance. (S. 5-7)

Architecture always sends a message - a signal. Architects are courageous when they create architecture, because what they want to communicate can be interpreted differently depending on the context. (S. 8-9)

These are just a few thoughts on what the verses could mean. However, the main message remain unclear to me.

“did the first passion of gold in this way, not leave the navigator blind because of that clarity without name with which the evening awards and destroys appearance?” seems to allude to this disappointment, as the same way I imagine how colonizers felt upon arriving in the new lands of the “naked peoples amongst their gods” as “the misleading hopes”.

Is it truly discovery, when the explorer is already predetermined by consciously made preconceptions and biases of their own ideals?

We could draw this question back to our own practice, reflecting critically on our own predetermined biases before we confront ourselves with new explorations in vernacular forms of urban design and architecture.

Just as the sails of a ship take in the wind, the purely rational gaze should step back in order to intensify the sensuality of all the senses - like a blind person whose remaining senses are sharpened. From this perspective, architecture, inspired by this poem, should not be thought of as a hermetically sealed space, but as a threshold that mediates between states: Past and future, light and darkness, exchange and introversion.

The art of poetry compared to other medium bring a blur or subjectivity that arise by the invitation in freely interpreting the narration exposed. The diversity of medium used in the architectural practice and process is for me necessary in order to investigate and test different perspective that emerge from those tools. In the case of Amereida, poetry is used to narrate the conquest of the Latin America continent. The choice of right words and their formulation in the description of a situation, a fact or object is very important influencing the reader. The use of poems appeals to our sensitivity and emotion in the creation of our perception. Incorporating this art into the design process could disrupt the pragmatism of certain methods. How to use properly this tool, words being full of personal meanings? How could the act of poetry influence urban development and the way we built?

This makes me wonder if cities that grow organically, without strict planning, can be more meaningful or authentic than those designed to be perfect. But is embracing organic growth possible in a western city like Zürich with an obsession with cleanliness and order?

This way of looking at land is crucial today, especially when discussing land ownership, urban expansion, and cultural heritage. The question is not just about who owns land, but how we relate to it, what histories and stories already exist there and who will tell them?

It is about carrying meaning, how land got shaped by not just one component, but a layer of multiple ones.

Can this poem be interpreted as a “stimulus” to question our habitual perception of colonised or newly discovered spaces/places?

Fitting to our lecture series it is a contrast to the scientific and exact description of western urban studies. An analytic text usually leaves no room for imagination and emotions. Poems evoke subjective impressions from the reader and do not long to be objectively true.

The second point is the reference to the sailors, also called strangers, who are presumably the Spanish seafarers that once set sail toward South America to colonize it. Interestingly, the poem is not written from a European perspective—it is not an adventure story—but rather from the viewpoint of the people on-site. However, it is also not from the perspective of the "naked peoples amongst their gods"; instead, it seems to reflect a more contemporary view. It somehow becomes clear that these sailors do not bring anything positive, but rather "violating deceits."

Overall, I can say that I really like the poem, especially because of the atmosphere it creates and the vivid imagery that allows me to immerse myself in the scene. Yet, I feel like I am only scratching the surface of its deeper meanings.

Despite all these poetic descriptions, the most inspiring passages regard the notion of time. A new dimension is introduced – “The third time”, and the poem ends with the beginning of “another past”. I drew a connection to architecture in these passages, describing a colonial attitude. Strangers regard developing countries as a playground for architectural experiments, for own visions and theories developed through their own lenses. Urban planners and architects, driven by the mysticism of “new land” and a “deceiving signal”, trying to achieve their illusionary dreams – Be it finding a golden city, or erecting a utopian society. Their arrival creates a new setting, “a new past” – which differs from the local one – Driven by a blind attitude, that ends in despair.

In this way, poetry is used to articulate the collective's vision of a Latin America liberated from colonial and foreign influences. Going beyond the rejection of colonial aesthetics, the text allows the continent to be reimagined as a place brimming with cultural riches, evoking the existential link between the land, the people and their history.

A similar issue exists in architecture. Western architects have often imposed their ideas on unfamiliar environments without considering local identities or needs. Cities like Brasília reflect this approach—planned from above rather than evolving through the experiences of their inhabitants. This raises the question of whether architects should design with fixed concepts or allow places to develop more naturally.

The idea of being “blinded” by the unknown could be seen differently. Instead of approaching spaces with predefined expectations, architects could work with what is already there, allowing design to emerge from local conditions. Rather than following rigid plans, can we create spaces that remain open to change and shaped by those who use them?

On the one hand, the side of the coloniser.  Seemingly blinded by the allure of gold, his behaviour is guided by greed and ruthlessness. On the other, the side of the natives. They are described as not fully aware, perhaps even naive, of the looming danger, especially from the coloniser.

The poets wonder why not enough of the natives took the warnings and dangers seriously enough.

They write of "the difficult trees that bear fruit", describing the natives' land as both a gift and a misfortune.

I think there are many parallels with today. Seemingly practical and harmless gadgets, applications and other matters appear to be a blessing to us now, but may cause greater harm and trouble in the future.

Whereas the story in the poem left only "an abandoned house", an emptiness, today's society is still able to choose between different paths.

Should difficult trees be cut down? Or is trimming enough? If they are to be cut down, which ones and how?

This makes me wonder: How can we rethink urban spaces as places of ongoing discovery rather than rigid structures of control? If cities are constantly shifting, what does it mean to truly "arrive" in a space?

If cities are landscapes of movement and interaction, should urban planning embrace more fluid, adaptable approaches?

It made me think about how this idea exists in cities today. Places labeled as “undeveloped” or “neglected” aren’t empty but full of life and history. Planners often see these places as blank spaces, open to be transformed with their own ideas and ideals forgetting things as inherent qualities and uniqueness. They are in a sense blind to these things.

The poem plays with time, suggesting history isn’t something in the past, but something that repeats itself. It’s a critic that suggests that we aren’t always moving forward but might be repeating old mistakes.

How can we avoid this cycle in urban planning? How do we design without imposing our own vision and erasing what already exists?

My question is how writing can be established and fostered as a collective process.

This mystery can be compared to the ignorance of the colonisers, who interpreted indigenous architecture as inferior because they never really tried to understand what it was all about.

"Where with grace to begin another past!"—The idea that a past can be begun is fascinating. Normally, we think of the past as something fixed, unchangeable. Yet this line suggests that the past is not simply given but shaped by our actions. Perhaps it means that every new deed, every new journey, or every new thought will, in hindsight, become the past—and it is up to us whether this past will be marked by grace.

It could also be a poetic way of saying: Let us step into something new with dignity and beauty, knowing that it will later remain as history. It is a reminder of the transience of everything, but also of the opportunity to consciously shape what will one day be a memory.

this evokes the notion of destiny and inevitability often used to justify conquest. The "path" seeking its opening could symbolize the European ideology of "manifest destiny" or the divine mandate to explore and "civilize" new lands. The passive phrasing suggests that the explorers saw themselves as instruments of a larger, almost cosmic purpose. However, this framing erases the agency of the land and its original inhabitants, recasting acts of invasion as the land "inviting" occupation.

This poem raises critical urban issues, such as the impact of material pursuit on the environment and societies, the balance between urban development and preserving natural landscapes, and the role of exploration and discovery in shaping urban spaces.

How can contemporary urban design reconcile the pursuit of material progress with the need to preserve the purity and innocence of natural environments?

But what lingers are the consequences. The “cruel rivers” and “abandoned houses” speak of what was left behind—signs of displacement, not progress. Exploration is framed not as an expansion of knowledge, but as an act of erasure. The rhythm of the poem, shifting between past and future, mirrors history’s repetition: one civilization stepping onto the shores of another, one story replacing another, until the past becomes something unrecognizable.

This makes me think about the way we build and shape the world today. Do we create with the same blindness, forcing our visions onto spaces without seeing what was already there? The poem questions whether discovery is ever truly about understanding or if it is simply a reshaping of reality to fit what we expect to find. Can we ever explore without leaving something—or someone—forgotten?

When I find a foreign landscape beautiful or romantic, is it because I subconsciously project my own cultural ideals and biases onto it, or does it stir something deeper—an existential, universal human response?

In terms of purpose, the discovery might be more in the pursuit of money. On the other hand, people’s perception may not even touch the essence underneath the phenomenon. Like the anthropomorphic description of nature in the poem, we touch them but never seem to feel their emotions. Day and night are mentioned several times in the poem, perhaps it refers to the obvious truths(day) and those undiscovered hidden ones in the night, or that nothing is completely black or white.

Thinking about it as an architect after that, every project in a new place seems to be an exploration. Are all those site studies, community connections, and other trials we make to understand the site a true reality, and what should we do to deepen or confirm it?

The tribes are described as follows: "ancient nocturnal peoples, to whom danger opens its offerings". It seems as if danger is waiting for the people with open arms. This would indeed fit in with the history of colonization, where the explorers brought new goods but also new diseases and thus posed a great danger to the population.

These considerations make me wonder: How did the colonization of America change the native population's relationship with nature?

The poem critiques colonial interventions, highlighting the deception of discovery. The so-called navigators arrived with predetermined expectations, driven by greed rather than curiosity. Their perception was shaped by illusion—did they find something new, or only what they wished to see? The line “the empty light that still calls us” suggests an ongoing temptation to explore, claim, and dominate, reinforcing the cyclical nature of colonization.

This pattern persists today. Just as past explorers declared lands "empty," modern societies label spaces degraded or underutilized to justify gentrification. Who decides whether a place is abandoned or full? The poem exposes how language shapes reality—declaring a place void is the first step toward seizing it.

Interesting is the way the text plays with language, full of metaphors and thought-provoking questions. The idea that America was not only discovered but also 'invented' opens up a fascinating perspective. It seems as if the text wants to look at history in a new way: America not just as an object of colonial influence, but as a space in which new ideas, identities and meanings could unfold.

Are there cases where so-called 'mistakes' in urban planning have been reframed as successes, and who gets to decide?

How does this tension between error, innovation, and unintended consequences shape the way we think about cities?"

If architecture is also a form of navigation, how can we design spaces that embrace openness and uncertainty rather than imposing fixed meanings?

So at what point can someone truly understand a place, a region, a landscape?

Through its refusal of linearity and its interrogation of colonial myths, the poem challenges the dominant narratives of discovery and foundation. Instead of accepting the European vision of clarity, it exposes its fragility, showing how it collapses into blindness, deception, and ruin.

Surprisingly, the content of this poem is still quite graphical and words are still deeply attached to their meaning and connotations. After reading the School of Valparaíso’s manifesto, I personally expected a poem that would proved to have a much more experimental style.

Overall, although I still have some reserves about the actual practice of the school’s theoretical approach, I personally find their method immensely interesting and relevant from an artistic point of view. So maybe the question should be, is an architect more of an artist, a scientist or a specialist ?

This also reflects on the idea of a certain blindess regarding a topic.

So how of today has this mindset shaped the people? How is their perception of their own land and the people living on it?

The fragility of perception is reflected in words such as "uncertain" and "blind » which reinforces the illusion.

“since to be shown the gift - is the misleading hope?”

These words suggest that what appears to be a gift or opportunity may, in fact, be nothing more than an illusion. This notion prompts reflection on the seductive appeal and potential hazards of new discoveries and cultural encounters.

This leads to several questions:

• Is Western aid to the Global South truly a gift, or is it simply our projection of an illusion of help?

• Could a poetic approach to architecture help solve urban issues in informal settlements?

• How does the romanticized idea of discovery and a fresh start shape our current perspectives on urban development?

The territories reached by European sailors were never empty; they were home to thriving indigenous cultures, rich in traditions and knowledge that differed from those of the conquerors. Yet, blinded by their relentless pursuit of material wealth—evoked in the line “did the first passion of gold”—these explorers saw only an expanse of unclaimed land, ready for exploitation.

The accompanying map of South America, devoid of any detail or acknowledgment of its peoples, mirrors this colonial mindset—a perspective that reduced entire civilizations to absence, erasing their existence from the European imagination. For Western historiography, these so-called “discoveries” marked an era of expansion and superiority, but for the indigenous inhabitants, they signified the onset of catastrophe—a rupture, a profound caesura in their history.

“Where with grace, to begin another past!”

How can we prevent ourselves from being blinded when designing? The poetic form allows for interpretation and feels accessible from multiple entry points. How could this translate into a design method?

‘did not the...’

With each question, a new perspective opens up. Emblematic as powerful, the following lapidary quote:

‘when lucidity consumes the refuge reality is opened’.

I think this statement requires no further elaboration. Simple, pure, powerful. The apotheosis of what we are often unable to pursue: a new perspective. Never impossible, always difficult, because in habit and preconception we are wont to find ease, refuge. Precisely the refuge that the citation calls into question; an illusion; a self-deception, as, for example, we are trained to perceive America, a mere land of conquest. Amereida challenges this perception.

From here, we can translate these reflections to everything. To every discipline. Even, and especially, architecture. But architecture is

static, it is slow. And it grows on itself, on its own tradition. It cannot but draw on the present, but always feeding on its past products.

And only once it has become aware of this constraint existential constraint, perhaps, it will be possible to treat it as an act of transformation.

However, the supposed clarity during the day will also create distortions, as light reflects, refracts and only selectively illuminates. The night and shadow as part of the whole cycle, leaves things unseen and hidden. Many aspects of cultures existing in the invaded land, that are overlooked in the european colonists' greed for power.

The sentence: „where with grace to begin another past!“ also seems important to me in this context. It connects to the cyclical nature of existence. The continous evolution of identity and history, shaped by the reflection of past experiences will inform possible futures. It also contains an empowering tone of reclaiming the history and past, which offers a path to liberation.

Since constructs of space and time, which are materialized through stories, histories, buildings, monuments and maps do not only reflect, but also continue to execute the power of the colonizer, I’m asking myself how to adress those in order for the reclaiming of the land and histories by the people.

While we now acknowledge that their exploitation was fundamentally unjust, at the time, exploration was perceived as an entitlement. Their enthusiasm was not rooted in a sincere curiosity about other cultures or an appreciation for established traditions, but rather in the benefits they hoped to secure for themselves. At the same time, their fear stemmed from the unpredictability of their journey into the unknown. With this narrow mindset, they failed to see the land for what it truly was. The most valuable treasure was not gold or conquest but the knowledge, heritage, and depth of the cultures that had long existed there - riches that were ultimately overlooked and lost.

It strikes me now as evening fills my soul
That the tiger addressed in my poem
Is a shadowy beast, a tiger of symbols
And scraps picked up at random out of books,
A string of labored tropes that have no life,
And not the fated tiger, the deadly jewel
That under sun or stars or changing moon
Goes on in Bengal or Sumatra fulfilling
Its rounds of love and indolence and death.
To the tiger of symbols I hold opposed
The one that's real, the one whose blood runs hot
As it cuts down a herd of buffaloes,
And that today, this August third, nineteen
Fifty-nine, throws its shadow on the grass;
But by the act of giving it a name,
By trying to fix the limits of its world,
It becomes a fiction not a living beast,
Not a tiger out roaming the wilds of earth.

We'll hunt for a third tiger now, but like
The others this one too will be a form
Of what I dream, a structure of words, and not
The flesh and one tiger that beyond all myths
Paces the earth. I know these things quite well,
Yet nonetheless some force keeps driving me
In this vague, unreasonable, and ancient quest,
And I go on pursuing through the hours
Another tiger, the beast not found in verse.

Jorge Luis Borges
1899-1986

"The Other Tiger"

but we have to acknowledge that they can also be violent

when thinking about a global theory of urban design

i am wondering which language do we choose?

is it an advantage to have the theory in english?

or is it also erasing information - so to say as being lost in translation?

as an example i find it interesting that the word desert has the meaning of emptiness deeply embedded in the origin of the expression

maybe in other languages the word has other origins?

are we conscious about the words we use to write theory?

is it gain of knowledge by generally writing about it in english or is it better to accept that a global history cant be written in only one language?

Ever since Icarus, who glued feathers to wings with wax to escape earthly existence and reach for the sun, the distant impossible goal of salvation, elysium and exaltation has been the source of most of humanity's most epic endeavours.

How touching that we should be a species so hopeful, so optimistic, as to cross oceans with windpower and defy logics and truths only slow quantification got the better of.

The development of culture around this escapism, the archetype of the sailor who's seen the infinite and reached for the sun, to discover wonders and new worlds, is at least as fascinating. Every reality is context, and their reality was a spot in life among powers that ranged from esoteric to godly.

Myths were truth, legends were facts, and the power of the vibe, the power of the atmosphere, of culture emerging in the most sordid situations, BECAUSE we are escapist, hopeful beings, and ultimately hope, built the world we live in today.

this extract is about the discovery of new land (in this case america), where people are more focused on materials and profit, rather than the land itself and the people who inhabit it.

Interpreting this in an architectural way, I feel like regulations often blind us in our profession. When pursuing a competition for example there is the risk of getting to attached to the program but not really questioning it. Is it really the right fit? Is it feasable?

With a generic approach a lot of similar solutions arise. Through questioning it, new and often better solutions can be formed.

If America has been touched, wanted, and occupied throughout its borders but never truly accepted, how can it move forward?

Architecture, in this reading, is both a mark of power and a way to rethink it. The idea of the "gift" appears—at first, an offering, but really a mask for deeper inequalities. Cities, too, carry this contradiction. They aren’t just built forms but narratives—stories of control, adaptation, and erased pasts.

If architecture is a kind of language, how do we build without imposing? Can design become an act of listening rather than domination?

Is our blindness not due to gold but much more our own self fulfillment, or do we fulfill ourselves with gold?

How do we talk about all this if we are on the ships in the wind, or what is left of them, much more than the colonized?

So the poem warns that blind ambition and rigid control, often disrupt the organic, lived connections that foster true human flourishing. Similar to top-down planning for example.

Perhaps all of this speaks to poems, especially foudning myths, wanting to communicate an attitude, instead of a message, or a lesson. It should communicate a feeling, in this case I feel, it wants to communicate curiosity.

We are left with a large white page with one word: What.

"AMEREIDA - THE POEM THAT BUILT A CITY is a poetic text on the relationship between conquest, culture and the landscapes that result from these interactions. It contemplates the arrival of European conquerors in the Americas, creating a narrative that, while not tied to a single place, speaks to the broader colonial experience across different regions. The poem is full with metaphors from nature - rivers, mountains, gold and the fertile lands of the Americas.

At its core, the poem explores questions of individual and collective belonging, highlighting how historical events and geographical roots shape one's sense of self. The arrival of the conquistadors marks a turning point, bringing together two contrasting worlds - one with deeply rooted traditions, the other driven by imperial expansion.

The poem also has been reflecting on the role of architecture in shaping cultural identity. On the other hand I think, that the architecture is the reflection of  societies values and history. The built environment is not just a physical space, but a reflection of a society's history and values. Architects have a unique ability to acknowledge historical legacies while promoting spaces that foster a sense of belonging.

How can architectural design both acknowledge the painful history of colonisation and empower contemporary communities? This question speaks to larger themes of preservation, restoration and the reimagining of spaces that honour shared memories and aspirations. In Amereida, the act of city-building itself becomes both a literal and symbolic process of reconstruction - one that acknowledges the past while trying to imagine a new future, mirroring the poem's exploration of how colonized regions can re-self-define as much as rewrite their own past. We know today, that the "winner" gets to narrate, write the history. How can we open up the narrow threads of eurocentered threads?

waterfield@arch.ethz.ch

It made me reflect predominantly on the modality of jumping medium as a means with which to overcome intransigent tensions within a discipline, or mode of thought. So I understand it as is an approach to the world not through the eyes of an architect who embodies the enlightnment rationalist, but through different eyes which connect rather emotionally or ‘poetically’ in the multiple senses of the word.

Then of course the thematic and site of the poem is also deal in part with a south american colonial relationships – and colonial relations were largely characterised by the dominant being unable too see the value of the subaltens mode of thought, reinforced by various other ideological and technological drives. I wondered about the relationships between indiginous and spanish Chileans at the time in which the poem was written, I dont know so much, but prior to the dictatorship in 1973 Chile was a progressive sociallist inflected democracy. It struck me – and I wonder if it was also a conscious choice as a form of progressive state building – that this method of poetry is an excellent tool with which to educate both Chilieans of a European heritage, and Chilieans of indiginous descent who perhaps do not have the same relation to enlightnment rationalism (and have even been on the recieving end of its racism). Was this poem, and this architecture school a state building project?

This or other similar tools of pedagogy could be applied well in other circumstances as a means of breaking points of thought and view which are locked in one mode but compatible in another.

Colonial powers benefited from studying local architecture, plants, and animals, but the issue lies in their exploitation of these resources. While they took stolen plants and animals back home, they also built fortifications in Indonesia, adapting them to the tropical climate. Instead of learning from local building practices and applying them in their own context, they imposed Western architectural approaches, reflecting a limited willingness to adapt and learn from indigenous knowledge. A more equitable approach would have involved seeing local civilizations as equals, giving them space to explore Western building techniques.