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Juan Felipe Robledo
(Colombia, 1968)
Contemplation without a theme
The world begins to vanish, we’ve liberated ourselves from the ballast, and it’s a pleasure to see the bell towers and the treetops in the distance; to stop in the middle of the field and know the name of our desire, to dream of scolopendra centipedes and salamanders of the sun, to stay and live in the Maldives and kick our feet under the table. Let’s go to the country!
| There will be perennials and dallying lilies in the country, |
we will love the roots and the tubers, and we’ll become good in the bower. Transubstantiation of that which is not time, murmuring howls will keep us company. Joy, hallelujah!
Translated by Constante Lardas.
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