“I travel through your waist as through a river,
I voyage your body as through a grove going,
as by a footpath going up a mountain
and suddenly coming upon a steep ravine
I go the straitened way of your keen thoughts
break through to daylight upon your white forehead
and there my spirit flings itself down, is shattered
now I collect my fragments one by one
and go on, bodiless, searching, in the dark…. you take on the likeness of a tree, a cloud,
you are all birds and now you are a star,
now you resemble the sharp edge of a sword
and now the executioner's bowl of blood,
the encroaching ivy that over grows and then
roots out the soul and divides it from itself”

—  Octavio Paz

Sun Stone (1957)

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update June 3, 2021. History

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Octavio Paz photo
Octavio Paz 71
Mexican writer laureated with the 1990 Nobel Prize for Lite… 1914–1998

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