Orchestra director

"Why does that forgotten book return when life was about to need it?
Why do we always find real love when looking for it through paths of deceit?
Why does the Cesar resurge, fiercer? Why is Aspasia´s daughter once again Aspasia?
Why are there things and moments lost through days that seem to give, all the sudden, a sense to                                                                                                                                                        everything?
Why do temples flourish out of their own ruins?
Why does the nose of the sphinx return while dreaming?
Why is the most fleeting of joys able to efface herds of insomnia?
Why do only some things of time stretch into memories?
Why does death return where there has been death?
Why is beauty the last flower of horror?
Why is horror the last flower of beauty?

These things unsettle me.

Why does our destiny resemble us so much?
Why does the one who has love find love?
Why does the one who has fright find fright?
Why does the nocturne sleep redeem us from the day?
Why are there always knocks at Macbeth's door?
Why does the jester disappear when Lear gets mad?
Why are the hawthorns so scared?
Why are the herons so calm?
Why is water gentle and concentrical?
Why is everyone complete after so many deaths?
Why is Troy intact on memory?
Why do we hate the barbarian, yet we are the barbarian?
Why isn´t the snail despaired by his own rate?

These things unsettle me.

Why so many casual meetings?
And why is it so hard to find what's seeked?
Why, after so many industrial millenia, are the grass, the wind, the water perfect again?
Why is nothing ever sunk definitely?
Why do golden galleons shine again?
Why this same love, dead long ago?
Why is what's most precious lost?
Why is what's most precious saved?
Why does the shadow always strike where it is most painful?
Why are there still a handful of living things, small compared to Babilon´s ankles, intimating with them, joining their shout to the golden rumour of the dead?

Mortals, this is my answer:
because life is not a road or a stair,
because life isn´t redemption or justice,
because history does not ascend to plenitude, nor is looking
                                                                   for the truth or the eternal,
because there is a perfection on abandonment,
and there is a perfection on the effort,
because the salamander is not less important than Shakespeare,
because life is music."


William Ospina, ¿Con quién habla Virginia caminando hacia el agua? (Who is Virginia talking to while walking towards water?)