Under The Jaguar Sun

I was living and dying in all the fibers of what is chewed and digested and in all the fibers that absorb the sun, consuming and digesting. Under the thatched arbor of a restaurant on a river-bank, where Olivia had waited for me, our teeth began to move slowly, with equal rhythm, and our eyes stared into each other's with the intensity of serpents'—serpents concentrated in the ecstasy of swallowing each other in turn, as we were aware, in our turn, of being swallowed by the serpent that digests us all, assimilated ceaselessly in the process of ingestion and digestion, in the universal cannibalism that leaves its imprint on every amorous relationship and erases the lines between our bodies and sopa de frijoles, huachinango a la vera cru-zana, and enchiladas.

When the olfactory alphabet, which made them so many words in a precious lexicon, is forgotten, perfumes will be left speechless, inarticulate, illegible.

It is within you that the ghosts acquire voices.

There was a voice, a song, a woman's voice that from time to time the breeze carries all the way up here to you from some open window; there was a lone song that on summer nights the air brought to you in bursts, and the moment you seemed to have grasped some note of it, it was already lost, and you were never sure you had really heard it and had not simply imagined it, desired to hear it, the dream of a woman's voice singing in the nightmare of your long insomnia. This is what you were waiting for, quiet and alert; it is no longer fear that makes you prick up your ears. You have begun to hear again this singing that reaches you with every note distinct, every timbre and colour, from the city that has been abandoned by all music.

Meanwhile I understood: my mistake with Olivia was to consider myself eaten by her, whereas I should be myself (I always had been) the one who ate her. The most appetizingly flavored human flesh belongs to the eater of human flesh. It was only by feeding ravenously on Olivia that I would cease being tasteless to her palate.

From “A King Listens” In sum, the throne, once you have been crowned, is where you had best remain seated, without moving, day and night. All your previous life has been only a waiting to become king; now you are king; you have only to reign. And what is reigning if not this long wait? Waiting for the moment when you will be deposed, when you will have to take leave of the throne, the scepter, the crown, and your head.

our eyes stared into each other’s with the intensity of serpents’— serpents concentrated in the ecstasy of swallowing each other in turn, as we were aware, in our turn, of being swallowed by the serpent that digests us all, assimilated ceaselessly in the process of ingestion and digestion, in the equal rhythm, and our eyes stared into each other’s with the intensity of serpents’— serpents concentrated in the ecstasy of swallowing each other in turn, as we were aware, in our turn, of being swallowed by the serpent that digests us all, assimilated ceaselessly in the process of ingestion and digestion, in the universal cannibalism that leaves its imprint on every amorous relationship

Just as colonial baroque set no limits on the profusion of ornament and display, in which God’s presence was identified in a closely calculated delirium of brimming, excessive sensations, so the curing of the hundred or more native varieties of hot peppers carefully selected for each dish opened vistas of a flaming ecstasy.

our teeth began to move slowly, with equal rhythm, and our eyes stared into each other’s with the intensity of serpents’—serpents concentrated in the ecstasy of swallowing each other in turn, as we were aware, in our turn, of being swallowed by the serpent that digests us all, assimilated ceaselessly in the process of ingestion and digestion, in the universal cannibalism that leaves its imprint on every amorous relationship and erases the lines between our bodies and sopa de frijoles, huachinango a la vera cruzana, and enchiladas.

How can a dialogue be established between the two of you if each thinks he hears, not the words of the other, but his own words, repeated by the echo?

Our subjective, individual selves, I was thinking, find their amplification and completion only in the unity of the couple.

Başını kaldırırsan, bir aydınlık göreceksin. Başının üzerinde, doğmakta olan gün, göğü aydınlatıyor: Yüzüne esen, yaprakları kımıldatan rüzgârdır. Yeniden dışarıdasın, köpekler havlıyor, kuşlar uyanıyor, renkler yeryüzüne dönüyor, şeyler yeniden uzayı dolduruyor, canlı varlıklar gene yaşam işaretleri veriyorlar. Hiç kuşkusuz, sen de varsın, burada ortada, dört bir yandan yükselen gürültüler kaynaşması içinde, hareketin uğultusu içinde, pistonların vuruşu içinde, çarkların gıcırtısı içinde. Bir yerlerden, toprağın bir kıvrımından şehir uyanıyor, giderek artan çarpma, vurma, gıcırdama sesleriyle. Artık bir gümbürtü, bir uğultu, bir gürleme bütün boşluğu kaplıyor, bütün seslenmeleri, iç çekişleri, hıçkırıkları içinde eritiyor...