taken me to write, just back. I'll tell you what nobody knows, only you, beautiful lady of the Nile, you know where I've been. Do not tell anyone, it's so amazing that you will laugh. And I struck out as a ghost. I accompanied
Menippus the Cynic philosopher, a Carmoleo of Megara, the value of their kisses is two talents, Lampico, the tyrant of Gela, to Damasio, the athlete, to Craton the rich, a general, a philosopher, an orator, he did not know where they were. Hermes
accompanied us to the Laguna, there we received Charon. I was curious to visit the Underworld.
order to get into the boat, rotten and full of holes, we all had to shake off the burden that I will bear: Menippus threw the wallet and staff; Carmoleo, kisses his lips; Lampico the treasured wealth at the expense of his subjects , its cruelty, madness and anger, Damasio, was forced to give up their muscles, crowns and applause, Craton, left on the shore pleasures, wealth, lineage and glory. The general, left the honor of his victories and weapons, as you said, hell no peace. I do not believe it. The philosopher, vanity, quackery and words without substance, pride and think you're the best and, above all, get rid of the adulation he had used both.
I said
- Hermes, I, Belit Seri Type of Alexandria, Impossible Dream Hunter, I'm naked, "I can upload?
You can not. Before you leave your dreams to light, the noise of the stars you keep in your voice, the chimeras that you hide in that dark corner of your thoughts, your memories of the fertile Nile, the doubts of your destiny, your hidden love between stories and poems that lie, and trust Uxa expected that your back in the gardens of Thebes.
-Hermes, I can not. I do not want to accompany Charon.
"Well, you go, you will have more opportunities. But do not forget the hell you expect unless you change your way of thinking.
I was transported by an unknown force and deposited on a street Maalula, mountain town of Damascus walking distance from where I write. Its inhabitants speak Aramaic, the language of Christ. I only learned to say, Ibla Hatita "Hello."
probably go to join the infinite, and I will not have returned to Alexandria. Sparrows among the honeysuckle not rest. Uxa friend, his eyes muttering thunder. And I can read them: "And, of last caress, why. " I'm tied up. The shades of night are falling. My strange life, drop by drop, is buffeted by a wind drunk. Only a thread of silence us together. Everything seems unreal reflections of a glass darkly. Scream. In my dictionary lacks words to express myself. I get lost between roots and poems. The silt left by the Nile and fertilize our land, hidden in his heart the truth.
In a far corner, the promise of meeting. Everything is vague. All stands too fragile. Only the chains of reality erected in owning, holding me over the abyss. Belit-SERI
