TE19 Iberian Adventure

Albert Bonjoch

From Flat Horizon to Flat Horizon

From home, from the vastness of the flat horizon, from serene savannah varnished by a vast sky, to flee from the sullen crowd of suffering men, from the dying grassland where blood wanders in silence, from the morbid noise of the rain, to flee the warmth of the hearth and penetrate the cold earth where the exile gets blind drunk simmering in a cauldron of yearning, to flee from fear and love in a wild rush like a lost calf or an enraged steed, to flee because the dwelling is surrounded and the wind whispers death, for good or ill,

but take arms and rise up, ride the horse of oblivion, spur on wounded time, wandering by moonlight and sunlight in the mountainous solitude, snorting pain and tears along distant roads, and to forget those huge eyes glowing red. To flee. That’s what the condemned lover wanted

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