had been used to being alone. His soul was still alive by jumping incandescent procured by certain intervals sacred and futile: the rhythm and melody of words on a page a sonata that time transformed into a feeling, a landscape captured on canvas in a way that provided a brief respite from fear of absolute neutrality. All this was what sustained his faith in the world. What the utilitarian and materialistic scientism eaters that ever cheaper would include: the privileged experience of walking on the banks of a river, in company of nature, not only due to an essence of nature itself, but also to received ideas through poetry and painting, the Protestant chorale or romantic exuberance. One walked into the frame. You saw through the poem. The imagination also created experience, not just the stuff.
Atlantic Union, by Adam Haslett.
Salamandra, 2010. Translation
Attrache Ismael Sánchez
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