MISTERIO
Insondable espíritu humano, de pliegues pleno,
Queremos creer y que nos crean pero,
Solo libramos un monólogo eterno de miedos lleno,
Unicamente lo que escuchamos es vacío, huero.Todo es máscara, todo sombra y su reflejo,
Nada tangible, nada verdadero, todo pasar, todo viento,
Intentar asirnos al instante, espejismo, espejo
Donde sólo nuestra imagen muestra su real aliento.Quizá allá, en el mundo de la idea, donde Dios habita,
Encontremos la clave y cita de nuestro rostro verdadero
En ese no tiempo y no lugar, donde la flor no marchita,Donde se manifiesta desnuda nuestra profunda valía,
Donde nuestro arquetipo la eviterna mente revela
En toda su magnitud en su impecable alegría.JEB 19/12/03
MYSTERY
Fathomless human spirit, folded in its fullness,
We want to believe and that the other ones believe to us, but,
In our lonely life we battle an eternal monologue full of fear,
And the only thing we listened in to it’s empty and vain.Everything is mask, all shadow and its reflection, nothing tangible,
Nothing true, nothing real, everything passing, all wind that blows.If we try
To grasp the time which is rolling, we only will grasp mirrors and mirages, Where only our image shows by an instant,its real breath and nothing more.Perhaps there, in the World of the Ideas, the Undiscovered Country,
Where G’d lives, let us find the key and some marginal notes,
Which our true face mention, in that Nontime and Nonplace,Where grows the Nonwithered flower and is shown undressed,
In all its splendour, our deepest worth, where our archetype will reveals Our endless mind, in all its magnitude, in all pure merriness,
And its impeccable joy, in the Sea of Peace of G’d.
Julio Enrique Brugos
19/12/03-26/03/05