Myth
The king knows about the mutinies and disturbances provoked by the discontents throughout the capital. At each step he receives a messenger of gloomy semblance. He strikes up a startled dialogue regarding an ambiguous piece of news.
The sovereign imagines the devastation of a fertile zone and the extermination of its farmers. A wild tribe has taken advantage of the kingdom’s confusion and has invaded it in carts armed with sickles. Some shameless witches, counselors to the savage caudillos, vociferate their prophecies amid the black residue of the bonfires. Through the heated air a red sun, of a warm country, is distinguished.
The men of the wild tribe transport some leather tents on the backs of their disfigured dogs, avid for blood, and establish themselves with their women, throughout and comfortably, in caverns practiced in the ground. They reserve the tents for their chiefs.
The king consults in vain the remedy of the state with the old captains, of pontifical beard and brief elocution.
The prince, his son, ensues to interrupt the council, where a grievous silence reigns. He invents the healthy means and recommends them in an easy discourse. He possesses the virtual idea and the redemptive verb. He has just left the company of the bewildered.
The veterans withdraw ceremonious and hopeful and bind themselves to his orders. The young man’s presence suppresses the fluctuations of victory and neutralizes the rebels’ stratagem.
The hero has faced the danger with the assistance of an enthused throng.
The day of his return, the beautiful women intone, from the terraces of the capitol palaces, a hymn of secular antiquity in praise of the rainbow.
Las formas del fuego (1929)
{ José Antonio Ramos Sucre, Obra completa, Caracas: Biblioteca Ayacucho, 1989 }
No comments:
Post a Comment