Otra vida de Derek Walcott
There was your heaven! The clear glaze of another life, a landscape locked in amber, the rare gleam. The dream of reason had produced its monster: a prodigy of the wrong age and colour”. “there is no other secret but a pain so alive that to touch every ledge of that house edges a scream from the burning wires, the nerves with their constellation of cancer, the beams with their star-seed of lice, pain shrinking every room, pain shining in every womb, while the blind, dumb termites, with jaws of the crabcells consume, in silent thunder, to the last of all Sundays, consume”. “These dead, these derelicts, that alphabet of the emaciated, they were the stars of my mythology”. “here was a life older than geography, as the leaves of edible roots opened their pages at the child's last lesson, Africa, heart-shaped”. “Generations of waves, generations of grass, like foam petalled and perished in an instant”. “I looked from old verandahs at verandahs, sails, the eternal summer sea like a book left open by an absent master. And what if it's all gone,… the moon will always swing its lantern and evening fold the pages of the sea, and peer like my lost reader silently between the turning leaves for the lost names of Caribs, slaves and fishermen?” + Leer más |