As the 35th anniversary of the International Poetry Festival of Medellín unfolded, its founder, Colombian poet Fernando Rendón, posed a question that echoes far beyond Colombia: What makes this poetry festival captivate so many poets and thousands of attendees each year? The answers—flowing from poets, scholars, and artists across the globe—reveal the Festival’s unique place in the heart of world poetry.

As images by Simon Chvatal circulated—showing crowds waving Palestinian flags while listening to verse—answers poured in from every corner, painting a portrait of the Festival as a living revolution of the word.

From Kyrgyzstan, Altynai Temirova declared:

“This is the most grandiose Poetry Festival in the world, brilliantly organized and the most large-scale and promising!!! Thank you for bringing the whole world together… in the language of Poetry!”

Tarek Eltayeb (Sudan–Austria) and Rati Saxena (India) sent warm congratulations, while Luis Bravo reflected on the Festival’s origins:

“It emerged during Colombia’s darkest times, forging global connections in a context of local violence. It has nurtured generations in Medellín, educating ears to the sounds of dozens of languages… It is not massification, but presence; not advertising, but gathering; not a packaged product, but the living word.”

The poetic philosopher Querido Fernando wrote powerfully:

“Poetry preserves the essence of thought in a world overrun by noise, reggaetón vulgarity, weapons, drugs, and the desensitization to war. What saves us, I insist, is founded by poets.”

Others echoed this emotion. Arturo Hernández Fuentes called it:

“A global meeting point… a shining example of dedication to poetry.”

Doris Sarria Valencia mused poetically:

“Because dawn belongs to a lark in love with the sun… because we fall in love to the rhythm of words… because we resist forgetting.”

Filmmaker Pakiko Ordonez added:

“We must return. The Festival is a life force.”

From Cuba, Manuel García Verdecia stated:

“Because it is a space where poetry is truly respected and appreciated. I was there. I felt it like nowhere else.”

Juan Carlos Murillo Sánchez reminded us:

“It has inspired the creation of many other poetry festivals across the Americas and beyond.”

The responses kept flowing:

“Because Medellín has built a culture of audiences,” said Irene Tapias. “A magical encounter,” noted Yordanis Febles. “A collective act of hope,” wrote Blanca Morel. “They know poetry’s true name,” said Natasha Kanapé. “An oasis in the desert of barbarity,” added Germán Ríos Gallego.

As poet and participant Emna Codepi summarized:

“This year I saw it all online. What a marvel! Maestro Rendón has done a wonderful job. I hope to be there next year to share my verses.”

The 35th edition did not merely celebrate poetry—it became, once more, its living testament.

Carmen Alicia Pérez and Oulaya Drissi El Bouzaidi both captured the essence in one phrase:

“Es toda una revolución poética, única.” A true poetic revolution—one of a kind.

Pedro Reyes highlighted the atmosphere:

“Debe ser por la buena disposición del público y la gran atención que se tiene con los artistas invitados.” It must be the openness of the audience and the great care given to invited artists.

Nautraldi Ortiz reflected on the Festival’s lasting impact:

“Porque son treinta y cinco años resistiendo, insistiendo, y ya se metió en los tuétanos de nuestros huesos.” Thirty-five years of resistance and persistence—it has entered the marrow of our bones.

Israel Alberto was moved by its longevity:

“Wao, no sabía que algo tan maravilloso era una tradición.” Wow, I didn’t know something so wonderful had become a tradition.

Mago Cuéllar emphasized identity:

“Ha logrado, a base de esfuerzo y persistencia, ser parte de la identidad de una ciudad y parte importante del patrimonio nacional.” Through effort and perseverance, it has become part of Medellín’s identity and national heritage.

From India, Biplab Majee offered praise:

“Great event. Congratulations. Love.”

Marialcira Matute declared:

“Ya ustedes son legendarios. Y la gente aprecia lo bello, lo bueno, lo auténtico. ¡Viva el FPM!” You are now legendary. People value what is beautiful, good, and authentic. Long live the Festival!

Alma Quiroz was inspired:

“Yo quiero ir.” I want to go.

1. Elizabeth Bergallo said simply:

“Por su verdad.” For its truth.

Teresa Consuelo Cardona wrote:

“Porque la poesía se revitaliza con cada tropiezo de la humanidad, con cada construcción de esperanza… La poesía es una de las expresiones más radicalmente humanas y profundamente espirituales.” Poetry is renewed with every stumble of humanity and every act of hope. It is one of the most radically human and profoundly spiritual expressions.

Juan Mauricio Ochoa Gallego emphasized unity through resistance:

“Desde la resistencia, existe una unión de todas las voces del mundo… la poesía es la voz universal.” From resistance, a union of world voices emerges—poetry is the universal voice.

Adriana Yee Meyberg echoed this, pointing to the Festival’s essence:

“Su verdadero compromiso con la vida y la belleza.” Its true commitment to life and beauty.

Elías J. Pinedo Ruiz added:

“La poesía es el corazón de la vida.” Poetry is the heart of life.

Úrsula Alvarado summed it up:

“¡Qué maravilla!” What a wonder!

And Biófilo Panclasta captured the spirit:

“Su promesa de vitalidad y belleza.” Its promise of vitality and beauty.

In these responses, we hear what makes the Medellín Poetry Festival so powerful: a shared belief that poetry heals, unites, and sustains the soul of humanity.

Egyptian Ashraf Aboul-Yazid’s answer, was his poem:

Medellín! O city that writes us as we write you, Capital that grows poems from stone, And pours ink upon the sun’s columns—ink that never dries.

For thirty-five years, Poets have come to you from the four corners of the earth, Not as bearers of passports, But as ambassadors of letters. They sit upon your thresholds And read once more the anthem of life.

From the Far East, one comes— A monk emerging from silence, Distilling wisdom from a cloud of words, Splitting rocks open, Planting meaning in the thirsty soil.

The African comes, Baptized in the Nile and the Congo, Shaking off the dust of the colonizer, Writing in his first tongue the hymn of liberation.

The Arab comes, Not to recite another Thousand and One Nights as the stranger did, But to create his own— Perfumed with the Tigris and Euphrates, Graced with the grandeur of pyramids, And echoing the gallop of conquerors Who passed through the poem as if upon a silk road.

The European comes, Dreaming of a hidden paradise, Carrying his soul in a suitcase of memory’s leather, Gazing into the collective mirror To glimpse what remains of the human.

The American comes, Bearing the flags of democracy, Singing the songs of liberty, With the bitterness of contradiction, Seeking a truth deeper than the headlines.

The Latin American comes, As if returning home, Knowing your alleys and borrowed names, Dancing with you to the rhythm of struggle, Writing for you what has yet to be written.

The Palestinian comes, Yes, He comes carrying his own coffin, Not filled with death, But with words that rise from beneath his keffiyeh, Carrying the memory of the land, Telling the world That love can be resistance, And a poem, a homeland set free.

All come, And Medellín, Year after year, Opens her arms like a mother of poems. She embroiders her banner with the letters of those who arrive, Weaves it with threads of love, Records it in sound, And releases it into the air— Printed poems, Wings that cross the ether.

O Medellín, O icon of poetry in this turbulent age, Be for us a poem that never ends.

_______________

Published under International Cooperation with "THE SILK ROAD TODAY"