In the midst of everyday farce, lie, confusion, selfishness, injustice and so many other corruptions in life, coming across Claudio is like finding a fresh spring of water or the sudden birdsong inaugurating the morning. I am not referring to his poetry now, but to his person, so clean of lie, full of truth, of human warmth and even innocence, almost as if newly created.
[…] He does not like to be talked about his own poetry either, in which he finds the liberation from everyday pain, always stalking. That is why he will hold a thousand times that poetry is salvation. Some say it is communication, others call it knowledge, others -another one, since it is me who says so- revelation. But for Claudio it is always salvation, refuge, liberation, or the encounter with the deepest truth of his own self and life.
[…] One loves Claudio as one loves water, the sun, the acacias. Also, because his heart is full of children playing in any small square in Zamora. That is why he can surprise us with his whims, for example, playing the frog game in all the outdoor cafés or little bars from Almagro to Madrid, and there, surrounded by road workers and full of joy after succeeding in aiming at the slot -the batrachian’s eternally open metallic mouth-, starting to recite the best English poets, whose works fill up some of the bookshelves in his house.