TE19 Iberian Adventure

Albert Bonjoch

Devil’s Paradise

It sounded like Heliconias weaving a spell, like petals steamed in the mist of a waterfall. And the rest was dull perpetual light, the perennial scent of floral rhythms. And nothing but the sweet flute of eternity stroking the breasts of the earth. And always the passing moment made drunk

by the honeyed elixir of Amazonian sap. And nobody awoke without the warm kiss of the unfading luminous sky. And everything under the shadow of the immortal branches where the soul’s pleasures were satisfied. And everywhere the winking of the river of fruits wrapped in necklaces of crystal beads. And thus the tender old man springing into life seemed to irrigate with gold the garden of the Putumayo.

- And why was paradise weeping darkness?

Well the day tasted of honey, but the tears were black. The green silence said so and the broken hymen of the earth. Dogs mauled the jungle and blindly pierced its soul. 38