Spinoza
by Jorge Luis Borges
The Jew's hands, translucent in the dusk, polish the lenses time and again. The dying afternoon is fear, is cold, and all afternoons are the same. The hands and the hyacinth-blue air that whitens at the Ghetto edges do not quite exist for this silent man who conjures up a clear labyrinth— undisturbed by fame, that reflection of dreams in the dream of another mirror, nor by maidens' timid love. Free of metaphor and myth, he grinds a stubborn crystal: the infinite map of the One who is all His stars. (Englische Übersetzung von Richard Howard, César Rennert) |
Mehr über Borges, seine politischen Ansichten und sein Verhältnis zum "liberalen Anarchismus" in diesem lesenswerten Artikel: http://www.ucema.edu.ar/conferencias/download/2011/06.01CPii.pdf
2 Kommentare:
Thanks for remembering my favorite writer :-)
He would have turned 112 years today.
Be sure to check out the link at the end of the post too :-).
Kommentar veröffentlichen