The human cry is nothing;

Nothing runs as fast as time;

Nothing runs, the eye of the sun

Just plays, no movement

Redeem, time does not return

The dead stand firm in their death,

No other death can they find,

Inaccessible, they are frozen,

From Hades and their solitude

Poor, they look at us and don't see us,

The idol of their life is grace

A zero always the same and forever,

Every moment is a zero forever,

The phantom of a king regulates

Once again the pulse, your last stance,

Hard in your sight, a mask is carved:

We are the monument of another

Life, unknown, almost foreign,

-Life, when was it really ours?

When are we what we truly are?

Iako, naravno, može da se pročita i u jednom dahu, razumevanje istorijskih i mitoloških referenci zahteva vreme.

Najzanimljivija referenca mi je bila na Franciska Maderu, jednog od vođa Meksičke revolucije. On je bio osobnost koja je otvoreno govorila/pisala o tome da u seansama razgovara sa duhovima umrlih.

Zbog toga je dobio naziv el espritista de la Revolución mexicana, što znači "duhovnik Meksičke revolucije".

Ovo je iznova ukazalo na kompleksnost i raznolikost istorijskih događaja i osoba koje ih čine.

Kroz ovu referencu, možemo videti kako je jedna osoba mogla da bude tako drugačija u svojim verovanjima i navikama što je učinilo njenom istorijskom sliku još zanimljivijom.

Ipak, iako je ovo bila zanimljiva referenca, treba biti oprezan pri tumačenju istorijskih podataka, jer može biti da postoje različiti pogledi i interpretacije.

I read "Sunstone/Piedra De Sol" which was translated into Indonesian, my native language, by Tia Setiadi.

Ah, I find myself kneeling before this masterpiece. I have dedicated my entire being while reading it word by word, allowing my imagination to vividly depict every scene. By the time I finish, I am left with a sense of emptiness.

It is beautiful. Every word is like a piece of tranquility that has dropped from an unknown sky. Just like the shards of a mirror that stab my chest, it is painful yet a blessing for my endless desperation. I drench my body and soul in it, sometimes closing my eyes to fully enjoy every magical line that Paz wrote. I smoke cigarettes while reading this so that I can devour the words as I suck them in. This poem absorbs me. It is dark and sickening, yet for some unknown reason, I find peace within it. Thank you, Paz...