Friday, June 25, 2004
"Little by little, a man comes to resemble the shape of his destiny; a man is, in the long run, his circumstances. More than a decoder or an avenger, more than a priest of the God, I was a prisoner. From the untiring maze of dreams I returned to my prison as if it was home. I blessed its dampness, I blessed its tiger, I blessed the hole of light, I blessed my old and painful body, I blessed the stones and the fog.
And then it happened what I can´t forget neither communicate. It happened the union with divinity, with the Universe (I don´t know if those words differ). Ecstasy does not repeat its symbols; there are some who have seen God in a splendor, there are those who have perceived it in a sword or in the circles of a rose. I saw a high Wheel, that was not in front of my eyes, neither behind, nor beside, but everywhere at one time. That Wheel was made of water, but of fire as well, and it was (even though its border was visible) infinite. Interwoven, it was formed by all the things that will be, are and have been, and I was one of the fibers of the total weft and Pedro de Alvarado -who caused me pain-, was another one. There they were the causes and the effects and I only had to look at that Wheel to understand it all, endlessly. Oh, the happiness of understanding, greater than the one from inventing or feeling! I saw the universe and I saw the intimate designs of the universe. I saw the origins that describe The Book of Council. I saw the mountains that emerged from the waters, I saw the first men of wood, I saw the earthen vats that betrayed men, I saw the dogs that destroyed their faces. I saw the faceless God that exists behind the gods. I saw infinite processes that formed only one happiness and, understanding it all, I could also understand the writing on the tiger.
It is a fourteen-casual-word formula (that seems to be casual) and only by saying it aloud I would be almighty. I only need to say it to abolish this prision of stone, to make the day turn into my night, to be young, to be inmortal, to make the tiger destroy Alvarado, to plunge the holy knife in Spanish chests, to rebuild the empire. Fourty syllables, fourteen words, and I, Tzinacan, would reign the land that had reigned Monteczuma. But I know that I will never say those words, because I´ve already forgotten about Tzinacan.
Let the mistery written in the tigers die with me. He who has half-seen the universe, who has half-seen the burnning commands of the universe, he can´t think about a man, about his trivial successes or failures, even when that man is himself. That man has been himself and now it doesn´t matter anymore. What matters to him the fate of that other? what matters to him the nation of that other? If he himself is now noboby. That is why I don´t pronounce the formula, that is why I let the days forget me, lying down in the darkness."
Jorge Luis Borges, El Maestro
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