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AGIANAPA I* And you see the light of the sun as the ancients used to say. And yet I thought I was seeing all these years walking between the mountains and the sea meeting by chance men in perfect armour; strange, I didn't notice that I saw their voices only. It was the blood that forced them to talk, the ram that I slaughtered and spread at their feet; but that red carpet was not the light. Whatever they told me I had to recognize by touch as when they hide you at night, hunted, in a stable or when you finally reach the body of a full-breasted woman and the room is thick with suffocating odors; whatever they told me: fur and silk. Strange, here I see the light of the sun; the gold net where things quiver like fish that a huge angel draws in along with the nets of the fisherman. 179 ...

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