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What unsatisfied fury of love will beat its butterfly wings now and then over our corpse? And in which instant do we really live?

Persephone by Homero AridjisPersephone by Homero AridjisPersephone by Homero Aridjis
Still we must take chances, choose our next minute, stutter earthly acts and words to them, signals from simpler but more fatal galaxies, little truths to their taste that will just suffice to lose us, and hours and hours that will tunnel into us and bring us back to a confused beginning, to a slow building up towards never, towards afterwards, towards burning out. Perhaps these thoughts are not his thoughts, but the ramblings of someone who doesn't admit the reality of his own acts, of his own mind, of his way of understanding his own passage;perhaps these feelings belong to someone who's in a hurry to get away and sees how, on account of his urgency, distances lengthen, his explanation lengthens, while his imagination runs over and the present erupts and dies in the blink of an eye.


Homero Aridjis
About the Author

Aridjis is a Mexican writer and poet, as well as former former Mexican Ambassador to the Netherlands and Switzerland, and the President of PEN. A short biography of the author is available, as are translations of two poems in English. A translation of the poem, Sometimes We Touch a Body is also available.

Signed, Aridjis