THE FLIGHT OF LIGHT

… and the morning comes and rises alone, clear, enormous, luminous;
my heart looks at her, and knows, for an instant, that she will overcome the tremor and the unusual astonishment,
and that darkness will also conquer, and that also, also death;
[being born, being born and going forward and upward, and filling, and rising;
so, and today,
such is and goes the light]
and it is that, sometimes, in this way joy grows and shines, intimate immortality,
even the ethics of evil as it roars, screams and pummels, watching its end, transfigured,
in limpid essences of love and silence;
... oh, oh if we could buy this prodigy with a market basket;
ah, if we could radiate its power through chairs and thrones, through pulpits, dais, parliaments,
and oh, if we could only remember him and with him, and from him, live!
… too busy, too deadly and still too cold in the voice,
Too much too much;
… and with that immense verve - lofty, healing and universal, and like from another world -
everything shines, fulfills and disappears to renew its strength, and quickly, and with a new face,
return;
… therefore, and being so - tell me - the flight of light, who, who stops it.
***
Antonio Justel
https://www.oriondepanthoseas
***