Antonio Justel Rodriguez

HALITS




… To the vestiges or ruins that in these or other foreign verses, you can find,
O travelers, do not throw stones;
Perhaps they are ash or clay of great passions: that of love or light, that of pain, that of death;
... and it is that perhaps, with each vestige or ruin, an instant of fire has been lived
with his immortal fire or embers,
or, perhaps, the terrifying and enormous paroxysm with which the shadows
have ever broken the peace of the heart;
but, what, what difference does it make, if each basting is joy and poem, and, as such,
they institute this with its exact sound and indelible hue, now violet, now crimson, now blue,
what they have managed to save and bring, from the Champs de Mars,
up to this side of the sea and of being;
... no, to those vestiges or ruins, no, no and never throw stones,
poets are no more poets or wiser because of the verb, but because of the living water,
the served and poured out, oh travelers friends or enemies never eternal, never, never, never;
... therefore, please look and read these few concepts that, today, here I bring,
those that I have humbly managed to gather, seize and rescue:
they are voice,
they are of light,
they are sacred,
the highest, the highest and most faithful spell of my mind and my blood.
***
Antonio Justel Rodriguez
http: //www.oriondepanthoseas
***
 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Antonio Justel Rodriguez.
Published on e-Stories.org on 11/28/2021.

 

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