Wednesday, August 09, 2006


As when from the depth of music,

A note vibrates grows and wanes

Until in another music blends

In this way, pours from silence

Another silence, a steeple, a sword

That soars and grows and lifts us

And while it soars, it lets go

Of memories, and hopes,

Of lies big and small

And we want to cry and in our throat

Dies the scream:

And we disembogue in the silent

That all silences mute.

~ Octavio Paz