Elegy

Oh destiny of Borgesto have sailed across the diverse seas of the worldor across that single and solitary sea of diversenames, to have been a part of Edinburgh, of Zurich, of thetwo Cordobas, of Colombia and of Texas, to have returned at the end of changing generationsto the ancient lands of his forebears, to Andalucia, to Portugal and to those countieswhere the Saxon warred with the Dane and theymixed their blood, to have wandered through the red and tranquillabyrinth of London, to have grown old in so many mirrors, to have sought in vain the marble gaze of the statues, to have questioned lithographs, encyclopedias, atlases, to have seen the things that men see, death, the sluggish dawn, the plains, and the delicate stars, and to have seen nothing, or almost nothingexcept the face of a girl from Buenos Airesa face that does not want you to remember it.

Oh destiny of Borges,perhaps no stranger than your own.