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Hi All Our Yesterdays

I know who my past.
Which of those left? "From the Geneva
that drew a Latin hexameter lustral
the years have erased?
Is this child that he searched the entire library of father

the point curvatures
map and feral forms that are the tiger and panther?
Or that another
pushed open a door behind which a man died
forever, and kissed her white
days face to face and goes dead? I
which are not.
am vain in the afternoon that lost people.

I returned to my custom to choose a book at random in a random library and a random page to read what I had, frankly, I ponder to think seriously as someone who is always cursing the destination and disgusted by chance you can perform this action, in short, human and hypocritical contradictions ...

Continuing the theme, the poem was "In uncertain conditions" and its first verse: "It's a strange concept of beauty."

I liked it and I got my trench decided to post it, but not only did not find it, but to make matters worse, I forgot the author ... So kindly ask if anyone knows what I do to reconnect with this poem that otherwise, it will not have a meeting with me.

Seeing my plans frustrated, I open to families to a random page of my book "complete poetry of Jorge Luis Borges and has blossomed this beautiful collection of poems published in the" The deep pink (1975) "

Digging in the preface to this book, I found something I liked:

"(...) For muse we understand what Milton called the Jews and the spirit and our subconscious (...)" sad mythology called

* Milton is an Anglo-Saxon poet.

not tell you how I got the book because it would be an idiot (I wanted to buy a complete works of Benedetti, got convinced that this was his neighbor shelf and leave the store I opened a random page and started reading and I said, this is not Mr. Benedetti know ... I looked at the cover and "surprise" ... Fortunately, Mr. Borges also I like very much).

Instead I will focus on trying to open a debate about the poem to try to force you to comment sinduendos.

Are we the same as the years pass? Or we die and different people are living, Is our past us? Should we then carry the consciousness of those actions that made a person who no longer are we?

* Feral: cruel, savage.

* Geneva: Mr. Borges lived and died a while as I have understood in Geneva.

If I find myself with time I'll post another poem and read Borges' life to put them in context. You can then update the entry.

meantime I hope comments.

Greetings sinduendos