The Pacific Ocean was overflowing the borders of the map. There was no place to put it. It was so large, wild and blue that it didn't fit anywhere. That's why it was left in front of my window.
The humanists worried about the little men it devoured over the years.
They do not count.
Not even that galleon, laden with cinnamon and pepper that perfumed it as it went down.
N0.
Not even the explorers' ship-fragile as a cradle clashed to pieces in the abyss-which keeled over with its starving men.
N0.
In the ocean, a man dissolves like a bar of salt. And water doesn't know it.
[Pablo Neruda]
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