Poem from the book, “El Greco”
Torment
Your tormented heart sadly
stares at the unbearable human
littleness which you witness,
daily pain
of the fecund rosebush,
daily scar of your
Titanic soul which
embraces all frugal and grand.
Was man great on your first morning?
Was man a negligible parrot
on your late dusk?
The fight of your honorable soul
grasps the equilibrium
between all pettiness
and the splendorous which
your ardor composes on
the ever adoring canvas.
What else is there?
Just immortality
in the hands of the mortal.
What else is there but
Death and
amorous hope
in the hands of an immortal?
Libros Libertad 