Two Fallen Angels

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Hardcover ISBN: 9788498973334
Typographic rustic ISBN: 9788496428256

SKU: 9788498971842 Category: Tags: ,

Two Fallen Angels is a book of short stories and poems by Pedro Antonio de Alarcón.

»July 7, 1844.
“I come, to see her. We have been alone, for a whole night… alone in the garden pavilion!
“The night was peaceful and transparent. It was too late. Through the wide open windows, penetrated through the vines the glows of the high moon, the perfumes of the field, the harmonies of the waters, the rustle of the leaves, the humid wind from the west, all those thousand soft emanations that spring from nature on these splendid summer nights.
“Adela, leaning against the window, her eyes fixed on the immensity of the sky, silent and beside me, flooding me with her hair when the breeze shook them, her lips half-opened to suck in auras less embalmed than her breath; Adela, with one hand gently abandoned between mine and holding with the other her melancholy head; Adela, dressed in white, bathed in languor by the moon, embellished by meditation, with her clear forehead raised towards God, with her gaze swimming in a heavenly fluid, with her soul abyssed in infinity… Oh, how beautiful Adele was!
“I too was silent, plunged into the ecstasy of ineffable adoration, snatched from the empyrean on the wings of that woman’s thought, flooded with the vague halo of passion, chastity and beauty that surrounded her…
“Luis,” Adela suddenly murmured, without looking at me or leaving that sublime attitude of rapture.
“And his voice was slow, solemn, and vibrating, like the quiet note of a prophet’s psalter.”
“Luis, the night is going to expire; Before those stars, august luminaries of the ara, of the Most High, are erased from heaven, I want to demand an oath from you.
“Which one?” I exclaimed, dominated by the gravity that Adela’s voice had acquired.
“Listen: we’re going to be separated for three months, and I need to hear a word from your lips first. Is it true that you love me? —questioned the beautiful one with her voice, with her gaze, with her whole soul, while her hands twitched between mine.
“I wanted to answer, and all the words seemed empty of the eloquence of truth, of the feeling that overflowed in my heart. So expressive and vehement did I want to make the manifestation of my affection, that the tumultuous, choppy, babbling sounds, expired on my lips … So I fell to my knees; and lifting up my folded hands above my head, I fixed my eyes on his with idolatry, and one word escaped my whole being:

Fragment of the work

Reference edition: Madrid, Imprenta Latina, 1924.

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