“Yes: in my second year of secondary school I started / speaking Spanish / because us Catalan girls couldn't get a date / and because, as Sylvia Plath said, / every woman adores a fascist”, writes Maria Sevilla Paris (Badalona, 1990) in one of the poems in Ni una o l’oposada flor (Arrebato Libros). On the left-hand pages we read the original poems in Catalan. On the right, the Spanish version, which often becomes a transformative game, by Juan Andrés García Román and the author herself. Ni una o l’oposada flor explains, in a ductile and precise language, Sevilla’s devotion to animals, plants, and all kinds of living organisms –including men–, while simultaneously reflecting on her relationship with Catalan, which although not the language her parents spoke to each other, has become her language of habitual use, her professional tool –she is an associate professor at the University of Barcelona and runs workshops at the Casal dels Infants del Raval– and her vehicle for artistic expression, which has so far yielded half a dozen books, among which are Dents de polpa (AdiA edicions, 2015), Plastilina (Fonoll, 2021), and La nit ovípara (Documents Documenta, 2024).