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Three short poems written in the Andes, where snow and wind sing songs in our gasping breaths.


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Preface

The highest elevation in the Andes is Mount Aconcagua in Argentina, which is 22,841 feet (6,962 meters). Although, I was just 17,785 feet (5,421 meters) above sea level. My heart almost stopped in that moment, accelerating in a rhythm that some wouldn’t believe. I doubted for a sec if I was really there.

The land of deadly ice, where millions perished and others triumphed, was right there in my sight. A panoramic view constituted by a mysterious essence and some kind of ghostly magic.

Nothing was alive, except our breaths. And that’s the exactly instant when the rendezvous between exquisiteness and consummation is about to take place. Only the cosmopolitan eye, devoid of all concepts, could glimpse something like that. Nevertheless, just a wanderer would comprehend it.



The following poems can’t describe enough of the Andean magic. No language can do this. Even though, I expect you enjoy it.




8 de Março de 2021 às 03:03 1 Denunciar Insira Seguir história
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