El peregrino de la fe / José Antonio Ramos Sucre

The Pilgrim of Faith

I enjoyed losing myself on the poor island, removed from the usual path. I would rest in the cemeteries inundated by wild flowers, in the confines of wooden churches.
     My thoughts would disperse at the sight of the amber sky and a blue line of mountains.
     I would randomly break apart the voluble flora of the plains. The magic iris of a column of water would stun the sequence of my imprudent horses.
     The fortuitous sun would invert the hours of vigil and sleep, presiding the splendor of an eccentric latitude.
     The green rivers were occupying a riverbed of ash. They deserved the privilege of carrying a disconsolate virgin’s coffin to the ocean.
     I reclined my head on a stone, pitying the banished forehead of Jesus, and I slept in a sober hill, where a perfumed thicket was growing, close to the bland tapestry of the sea.
     I enjoyed, in the course of the placid night, the visions reserved for Parsifal and I received, before dawn, the command that I walk away in silence.
     A hero from the celestial court, favored with the semblance and wisdom of a Saint Jerome, was waiting for me at a short distance in the boat of passage and he guided it with his voice.

El cielo de esmalte (1929)

{ José Antonio Ramos Sucre, Obra completa, Caracas: Biblioteca Ayacucho, 1989 }

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