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TODAY'S M E D I T A T I O N The fiery palm tree in front of me, that the setting sun isjust now leaving, this late and silent afternoon, inside our peaceful garden, while flowery old Valencia drinks the Guadalaviar watersValencia of delicate towers, in the joyful sky of Ausias March, her river turns entirely into roses before it arrives at the sea— I think of the war. The war is like a tornado moving through the bleak foothills of the Duero, through the plains of standing wheat, from the farmlands of Extremadura to these gardens with private lemons, from the grey skies of the north to these salty marshes full of light. I think of Spain, all of it sold out, river by river, mountain by mountain, seato sea. [167] This page intentionally left blank ...

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