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The final shadow

Octavio Paz

The final shadow may close my eyes, carry me off from white of day, unchaining my soul at the hour of its anxious obsequious desire. but it will not leave the memory of that other shore where it once burned, for my fire can swim me through the frigid water, regardless of the strictures of law. A soul which once imprisoned an entire God, veins that brought fuel to such flames, marrow that so gloriously burned: they’ll leave this body, but not its cares; ash they’ll be, yet still aware; they will be dust, but dust in love.