One Hundred Years of Solitude

warm, incipient, full of voices
from the past, the murmurs of
ancient geraniums, sighs of
disenchantment that preceded
the most tenacious nostalgia.
He did not notice it because
at that moment he was
discovering the first
indications of his own being
in a lascivious grandfather
who let himself be frivolously
dragged along across a
hallucinated plateau in search
of a beautiful woman who