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Artist
I am not the one who begets you. They are the dead.
They are my father, his father and his elders;
They are the ones that a long maze of loves
They traced from Adam and the deserts
Of Cain and Abel, in a dawn
So old that it is already mythology,
And they arrive, blood and marrow, to this day
Of the future, in which I beget you now.
I feel your crowd. We are
And, between us, you and those to come
Children that you have to beget. the latter
And those of the red Adam. I am those others
Also. eternity is in things
Of time, which are hasty forms.
