Tribute to the Torres of Paine by Ignacio Larrañaga clic to see the text
Inaccessible mountains, rising in the air like mysterious birds silhouetted against a blue background with white clouds surrounded by deep waters, down to the bottom where the last causes lie. What a beautiful world: varied, strange, enigmatic…blue here, yellow and green there, everything is mysterious and magical.
Oh, Towers of Paine that defiantly scale the spaces of the errant stars in the silence of the heights of araucaria pine trees! Grant me the wisdom to transform our home, not into an anchor but into a mast that indicates endless horizons.
Dreams sailed the sea and we have had reasons to dream. You, rocks of Paine, are like bows from which our children are propelled like arrows, forward and upward.
Night has stopped at my door intoning melodies fallen from the stars. Heights of Paine, you look like a mountain of snow but you are pure rock that raises its finger towards the stars? towards the blue? No, towards the spaces where the Infinite One lives, rules and loves.
The last lamp went out with the quiet light of the stars and the enormous mountain covered its face with a veil of mist. Tell me, sacred mountain, what mysteries are concealed behind the mist? Why are all of the lamps extinguished and all of the doors closed? Why is the wind spent, the light dead and the day dark? Show me your face, mountain of God.
Enveloped in a tormented threatening atmosphere as though it were the end of the world, the dark hostile silhouette of the Towers of Paine is outlined. I will sing you a melody when my lips are scorched by the flames, and my hands open to be filled with stardust, and our paths become rhythm and fragrance.
O! Everything is movement and stillness: the waves, the tides, the clouds, the storm, the sleeping giants, what a spectacle! My God, how awesome is your creation! It is the frenetic whirlpool of air and fire, a mountain of ruins and oblivion beneath the tree-shaded forest of the road and the sleeping drum of victory; no longer do we fear the storm nor the shadows.
Turbulent currents, stormy clouds, the background against which a rough, shaggy, fierce, and impregnable topography stands out. My God, it seems as though we are facing the convulsive birth of the planet in a telluric delivery or a cataclysmic end. Life sings in our silence and dreams while we sleep. And even when we sail among hardships and sorrows, Life is seated upon its high throne. When we weep, Life smiles at the sunlight and is free even when we drag our chains.
Will death destroy all that we have built? Will the wind dispel all that we have sown? Words that have been written in the dust of the road have scaled the heights and among bleak clouds, they challenge the stars and space.
Lord, the giants have stopped to rest on the plain. Spring will come and the snows will melt in search of the river, and our secrets will seek the river of Life and will end up in the open sea. Eternal mountains, although you have forgotten who your mother was, the sea will affirm her motherhood and eternally call you to her womb.
Towers of Paine, at last, serenity and calm envelop you in a mantle of blue. You have come forth from the eternal night of turbulence and shuddering torment and have arrived at the day of Serenity. Welcome! The depths of the soul and the heights of space, the rocks and the stars sing in unison. In another dawn hope will return and then, we will know that all things are living and fragrant.
F ar away, underneath a rotten branch eternally clothed in threats, storm and rocky majesty, I salute you glorious Towers of Paine. When I contemplate your distant silhouettes, fiery dreams flame in my dilated pupils. I will seek solitary beaches to sing a cosmic hymn and then, I will leave with the errant stars of the night to sink down into the deep.
End Santiago, Chile - January 2012 - TOV Foundation House
Thanks to: Music: Song without words, Mendelssohn. Interpreter: Ronan O‘Hora Photos: National Park Torres of Paine/ www.verticepatagonia.com/ www.vidasilvestre: Daniel Gomez – Lobo Fehling/Calendar 2012 Abastible/www.fondosgratis.com.mx/adsinimages.com/www.prensa.cl