Omega
When death finally arrives at my plea and its warnings have empowered me for the solitary journey, I will invoke a spring being, for the purpose of soliciting assistance from the harmony of supreme origin, and an infinite solace will settle on my countenance.
My relics, hidden in the womb of darkness and animated by a shapeless life, will respond from their exile to the magnetism of an unsettled voice, uttered on a naked coast.
The eloquent memory, similar to an exiguous moon over the view of a somnambulist bird, will disrupt my impersonal dream until the hour comes to plunge, with my name, into solemn oblivion.
El cielo de esmalte (1929)
{ José Antonio Ramos Sucre, Obra completa, Caracas: Biblioteca Ayacucho, 1989 }
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