La cuna de Mazeppa / José Antonio Ramos Sucre

The Cradle of Mazeppa

An easy aura propagates the complaint of the earth covered in ruins, hurt by winter and its victor’s malice. The new season exhales a vital fire, prelude of the tumult. The ducks returned to thawed swamps, and disturb the quicksilver surface. Humble sporadic flower overcomes the fecund grassland, tapestry of the plain, softened by the spring. The stems surge by stubbornness, thin and vigorous, from the superficial, poured water. The sun differentiates the tones of green in the undulations of the prairie agitated by the wind, and a cloud projects the shadow of its flight. Birds of prey circulate frequent in the heights of the air, from where they register their domain or traverse it with the determination of messengers. The sky, a sharp blue, descends roundly over the wasteland, breeding ground for wolves, and a horseman, stuffed in his plush habit, crosses at a gallop in demand of a city with golden cupolas.




La torre de Timón (1925)




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