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XXX

Se quiserem que eu tenha um misticismo, está bem, tenho-o.

Sou místico, mas só com o corpo.

A minha almo é simples e não pensa.

O meu misticismo é não quere saber.

É viver e não pensar nisso.

Não sei o que é a Natureza: canto-a.

Vivo no cimo dum outeiro

Numa casa caiada e sozinha,

E essa é a minha definição.

XXX So I'm a Mystic, and Then?

If they accuse me of mysticism, alright, I'm guilty.

I'm a mystic. Now do you feel better?

But it's only an act of the body.

My soul is simple and doesn't think at all.

My mysticism is in not wanting to know.

It lives without thinking about living.

I don't know what Nature is; I just go on about it.

I live where Winnett bends almost double, a little valley,

In a brick house, half a duplex in fact,

built by a man who lost his son at Teruel.

The neighbour beside me throws lasagna to the crows.

There. That's how you can define me.

XXX So I'm a Mystic, and Then?

Erín Moure

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