n closing the horizon
with its deep-blue line. Behind me was a rock on which a torrent of
melted snow dashed its white foam, and there, diverted from its course,
rushed with a mad leap and plunged headlong into the gulf that yawned
beneath my window.
"Amid such scenes I composed 'Reponds-moi la Marche des Gibaros,'
'Polonia,' 'Columbia,' 'Pastorella e Cavaliere,' 'Jeunesse,' and many
other unpublished works. I allowed my fingers to run over the keys,
wrapped up in the contemplation of these wonders; while my poor friend,
whom I heeded but little, revealed to me with a childish loquacity the
lofty destiny he held in reserve for humanity. Can you conceive the
contrast produced by this shattered intellect expressing at random its
disjointed thoughts, as a disordered clock strikes by chance any
hour, and the majestic serenity of the scene around me? I felt it
instinctively. My misanthropy gave way. I became indulgent toward myself
and mankind, and the wounds of my heart closed once more. My despair was
soothed; and soon the sun of the tropics, which tinges all things with
gold--dreams as well as fruits--restored me with new confidence and
vigor to my wanderings.
"I relapsed into the manners and life of these primitive countries:
if not strictly virtuous, they are at all events terribly attractive.
Existence in a tropical wilderness, in the midst of a voluptuous and
half-civilized race, bears no resemblance to that of a London cockney, a
Parisian lounger, or an American Quaker. Times there were, indeed, when
a voice was heard within me that spoke of nobler aims. It reminded me
of what I once was, of what I yet might be; and commanded imperatively a
return to a healthier and more active life. But I had allowed myself to
be enervated by this baneful languor, this insidious _far niente_; and
my moral torpor was such that the mere thought of reappearing before
a polished audience struck me as superlatively absurd. 'Where was the
object?' I would ask myself. Moreover, it was too late; and I went on
dreaming with open eyes, careering on horseback through the savannas,
listening at break of day to the prattle of the parrots in the
guava-trees, at nightfall to the chirp of the _grillos_ in the
cane-fields, or else smoking my cigar, taking my coffee, rocking myself
in a hammock--in short, enjoying all the delights that are the very
heart-blood of a _guajiro_, and out of the sphere of which he can see
but death, or, what is worse
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