…go out, then, and instill in your soul an endless palpitation,
install it in a different halo, that of a superior oil painting,
or march and cross your heart in search of truth in your mortal blazon
and intuit that divine hunch, affirm it, pursue it;
From rivers of love arise prodigious nostalgia and also Christic splendors, surviving,
so much so that, listening to them run, lexicons/passion come from them
like unknown and quantum atoms of fire;
[… split, break eternity and usher in a new time,
a supreme breath and retrace the blood, the conscience, the ancestral biases,
and so the paths, the cold fires and the brambles, and remake them, rebuild them]
… my man, no, do not immolate yourself at the door of despair,
but take your sword of valor and cut and polish the knots of your age and your century;
Have you greened, to the limit, your intimate and beautiful cactus flower...?
…so welcome it, welcome it and inhale its aroma;
But, ah, ah my man, no, don't die!
***
Antonio Justel/Orion of Panthoseas
http://oriondepanthosaeas.com
***