Not I who gave you life. Are dead.
are my father, his father and older;
are a long maze of love
traced from Adam and deserts
of Cain and Abel, in a dawn
so old that it is mythology,
and arrive, blood and bone, to this day
the future, which will now spawn.
feel your crowd. We
us and among us, you and you come
to father children. These last
Red
and Adam. I'm such other,
too. Eternity is time
things that are hurrying forms.
Jorge Luis Borges
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