Tumba de Pedro Salinas i San Juan

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  Miguel Ángel Blázquez Vilar

  :: 31 August 2018 05:45:48

  In this place the Spanish poet Pedro Salinas was buried. What a joy, to live feeling alive. Give up to great certainty, obscurely, that another being, outside of me, far away, is living me That when the mirrors, the spies, azogues, short souls, ensure I'm here, I, immobile, with closed eyes and lips, denying me love of light, of flower and of names, the truth that can be seen is that without my steps, with others, far away, and there I'm kissing flowers, lights, I speak. That there is another being for which I look at the world because he is loving me with his eyes. That there is another voice with which I say things not suspected by my great silence; and he also loves me with his voice. Life - what transport already! -, ignorance of what my actions are, what she does, in which she lives, double, yours and mine. And when she speaks to me of a dark sky, of a white landscape, I will remember stars that I did not see, that she watched, and snow that was snowing there in his sky. With the strange delight of remembering of touching what I did not touch but with those hands that I do not reach to take with mine, so distant. And all alienated can the body Rest still, dead already. Die in high confidence that this living of mine was not only my live: it was ours. And who lives another being behind the non-death. Pedro Salinas The voice to you due