“Eternity is one of the rare virtues of the literature”
.
Adolfo Bioy Casares
Last Requiem of Thursday
In
the attempt of an infinite man,
Toward
a city of heretics
verses
appeared from
songs
that nobody sings.
Last
Requiem of Thursday
And
the tragic feeling
of
a hot highway
on
the way to the south
massacred
by the mob of the temple.
Except
the twilight
nobody
runs through your footprints
Lose
control of our lives,
Our
dreams, ourselves,
get
rid of the ideal
deeper
meaningful life
for
the unsettling feeling
of
the boat, adrift.
Last
Requiem of Thursday
JAVIER
MIRO/GUSTAVO SALA