If you have just picked up a copy of "Awaiting the Green Morning", here's a word of advice - save the introduction for later. For as Mr Sanders says "the readers of these poems need not possess a comprehensive grasp of Argentine or Latin American history or literature ",  so is the distinctly earthy smell of Maria Rosa Lojo's poetry best tasted without knowing the whens and whys or hows.

Divided in four chapters with names as varied as "Vampires, Dragons and other metamorphoses", "Domesticities", "Journeys" and "Mother Song",  the unifying thread in this book remains people, people with lost identities. Consider the very first poem "Fragility of Vampires". She leaves the poem open to interpretations - does she speak of the "disappeared ones" in Argentina during the Genral's rule, or is this a poem about the millions of "disappeared" women in the third world who line the red light streets of Delhi, Dhaka, Myanmar? Or can this be read in the context of the modern man, where every citizen is a loner, every loner a vampire, and every vampire a victim?

A thinker's poet, Ms Lojo carries on in the same vein of multiple interpretations throughout the first chapter (try "The Puppet" or "Dragons").

In the second chapter, Ms Lojo speaks of the loss of identity at home. In poems such as "Orders", "Covering Tracks" or "Outside", she picks up little pieces of everyday chores, and translates them into questions on freedom in our everyday lives. My favourite piece in the collection, though, will be "The Great Waters" (Journeys). There is the subtle, mild hint of rebellion here, not against what is without, but against what is within. Here she says "but fear is stronger and she waits for the day to end and the light to withdraw, so she can mourn her loss" - a charming way indeed, to tell us how foolishly we choose to remain prisoners of our own device.

As the reader comes to understand, Ms Lojo has her own distinctly narrative style of poetry - there is an absence of rhyme or cunning wordplay, but it is more than made up for by rhythm, and sensitivity. Every poem has a simple story to tell, yet within that simplicity resides an ingrained sense of the larger id. It is unfortunate that the world had not been introduced to the works of such a fine poet earlier.

I started this review by asking you not to read the introduction at the beginning, but I must insist that you read it carefully once you have savoured the gems in this collection. It is an excellent account of how the translator Brett Alan Sanders came to work with the poems of Maria Rosa Lojo, and of his understanding of the Argentine connection. One must ultimately thank Mr Sanders for introducing Ms Lojo to the English speaking world. It is said that any translation of poetry requires the translator to be a poet at heart, and with this collection one comes to appreciate Mr Sanders' excellent understanding of not just the Spanish and English languages, but also of the universal language of the poet.