from ghachar ghochar by vivek shanbhag
"had vincent taken on a grand name and grown a long shimmering beard, he'd have thousands of people falling at his feet. how different are the words of those exalted beings from his? words, after all, are nothing by themselves. they burst into meaning only in the minds they've entered. if you think about it, even those held to be gods incarnate seldom speak of profound things. it's their day-to-day utterances that are imbued with sublime meanings. and who's to say the gods cannot take the form of a waiter when they choose to visit us?"
rápidas manos frías/ retiran una a una/las vendas de la sombra/abro los ojos/ todavía/ estoy vivo/en el centro/ de una herida todavía fresca ~*madrugada* por octavio paz
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