11. Pròsper


I have become a big rock
leaning over the abyss;
for centuries exposed to the sun,
and the hurricane gives me warning
that it is the force that demolishes,
but that to me acts submissive.

Temple of cork oaks:
I see heights and gullies,
there are no people in my site;
I become inebriated with silence
while waiting for
the inflamed sunset to begin.

Get out, now, out of the ancient dens,
witches, demons, and griffins;
at the Sabbath gathering,
fill the vault of heaven,
for I am, in the darkness,
the magus of the night.

(versió de Salvador Pila)