XIX / Eduardo Mariño


The precipice falls asleep under my own dream, the afternoon extracts flaming plumes from the torturous current that sooner or later, in one way or another, softly pronounces your name and like an eagle of fire, you burst into my jungle; the branches tremble and our shades are a seductive and ambiguously tender mask.

You come to teach me the true magic, that of heroes who look inside their twilights without fear of falling into eternal returns knowing that being heroes isn’t everything (many of them die without knowing the Order that hides behind the majestic flights and broken glances you bring on the rivers, in your snowy arms, your wings, twilight phoenix, glorious Bennu, beloved Ishtar...).

I have always known, life is like a river of fire that makes us repeat ourselves at each instant.

Por si los dioses mueren (1995)

{ Eduardo Mariño, A la salida del fastuoso recital, Caracas: Monte Ávila Editores, 2009 }

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