Book of Saints
The monk lives in the cavern, originated from preterite assaults by the sea. The vehement water was able to practice an opening in the rock.
The jagged coast, dawn of so many waves, is the orle of the closed night’s mantle.
The creatures’ aspiration for the infinite becomes anguished under the weight of the shade. They divine and feel the circle of a captivity.
Informous beings slip through the fluid air. They are agents of evil, previous to the origin of the earth, more powerful in the changing of the season.
The monk is surrounded by the temptations of fear. He attends the midnight work, learned from a secretive brotherhood.
The sky’s succor banishes those powers that are enemies of light. It is manifested in the deep and spacious thunder, in the intermittent lightning bolt.
The monk’s face forever preserves the stupor of this night of prodigy.
La torre de Timón (1925)
{ José Antonio Ramos Sucre, Obra completa, Caracas: Biblioteca Ayacucho, 1989 }
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