-Jean-Luc Godard, Adieu au langage
I am a seed in the depths of me.
Death will not be the end of flesh and
With iron bark a body may yet soar,
Anchored to Earth for a thousand years.
Earth itself is shaped and roots woven,
Death be not the end, if you believe it.
Renounce the accounts of your birth.
Your frenzied mother in violent arousal,
The blood? The blood may be a brook
Or a stream, an Ocean.
And much rejoicement when one is brought forth
To break and suffer, yes, but here we are
And what then, if not nothing?
But nothing be not the end, nor its beginning.
Millions are the measure of your breathing;
Your heart beating until it doesn’t
And iron bark awaits.
Of flesh and of wood.
Do you not see it?
Yes, all is lost and remains so
In constant revolution, in its myriad tides,
How a dog or a particularly stupid cat
Chases its tail
And when it does bite,
Pain only reveals them,
They discover themselves
Yamil Maldonado Pèrez was born in Puerto Rico, where he currently resides. He studies in the University of Puerto Rico, Rio Piedras campus where he majors in Philosophy and Comparative Literature. His main interest lies in the processes that underlie the evolution of mythology, Christianity in particular.