Winds have no moving emblems here, but scour
A vacant darkness, an untempered light;
No branches bend, never a tortured flower
Shuders, root-weary, on the verge of flight;
Winged future, withered past, no seeds nor leaves
Free though a naked land, whose breast receives
All the fierce ardour of a naked sun.
You have the light for lover. Fortunate Earth!
Conceive the fruti of his divine desire.
But the dry dust is all she brings to birth,
That child of clay by even celestial fire.
Then come, soft rain and tender clouds, abate
This shining love that has the force of hate.
A vacant darkness, an untempered light;
No branches bend, never a tortured flower
Shuders, root-weary, on the verge of flight;
Winged future, withered past, no seeds nor leaves
Free though a naked land, whose breast receives
All the fierce ardour of a naked sun.
You have the light for lover. Fortunate Earth!
Conceive the fruti of his divine desire.
But the dry dust is all she brings to birth,
That child of clay by even celestial fire.
Then come, soft rain and tender clouds, abate
This shining love that has the force of hate.
ALDOUS HUXLEY
"La perspectiva de Almería, vista desde el hacho de la Alcazaba, es una de las más hermosas del mundo. Por tres pesetas, el visitante tiene derecho a recorrer los jardines desiertos, escalonados en terrazas, y puede sentarse a la sombra de un palisandro a contemplar un cielo azul, sin nubes". (Juan Goytisolo, La Chanca)
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