Palm Sunday, life metaphor

Do you know why there is so much life on this Palm Sunday morning?? Yes, partly because Seville opens life. The squares of the neighborhoods release the hands of albero that have been thrown so that Palm Sunday has the light that releases colors. The city opens girls, the girls debut loves, loves release caresses, the caresses release scents of caramelized almonds through the Puerta de Triana, of old torrijas by the bourgeois counter of Ochoa, next to the corridor of the plot of chairs on Sierpes street. The city opens the air, premieres the smell of esparto from that enormous belt of a Nazarene with a black tunic with a tail that seems to have been thrown on the floor of the boxes in the Plaza de Dan Francisco, boxes that are like all of Seville, like all Holy Week, two halves eternally reconciled, two opposites in continuous synthesis. On the ground are the new esparto mats, with the Quidiello chairs, like a downtown brotherhood. On the railings are the red apricots, with the colors of the tail tunic of a neighborhood brotherhood.

But don't you know why?, in addition to those, there is so much life on this Palm Sunday morning? Because the long metaphor of the life of man in the city that is Holy Week begins. there is so much life, that this morning it is as if the pregnant city were out of accounts, the accounts of the long pregnancy of Lent that the little chapels have been carrying on the counters of the bars of the brotherhood houses. If you take the accounts of nine months ago, you will see that the city must have become pregnant one morning in June, with rosemary, when God was on the street between bells. From so much love for our things that there was that morning of Corpus, a being would begin to come to life, that it was a dream of poles watching Santas Justa and Rufina walk through the Locksmith next to the Giralda.

Today is the day the city is eternally born. That's why we celebrate Christmas so little here. What more Christmas than Palm Sunday? What Christmas Eve can be better than the Madrugada? God is born in the Bethlehem of Seville among little shepherds dressed in white capirotitos when he descends the Rampla del Salvador mounted on a little donkey. The coastal angels are giving glory to God this morning on the heights of the Giralda, who has turned the palm that the archbishop left him after the capitular procession through Gradas Bajas into bronze.

That's why today there are all the children of all lives, all the children we were, playing on the ramp of El Salvador waiting to ask for the first candy from the first Nazarene. is that today life begins. From that first Nazarene, everything will be as fleeting as a life. If Holy Week is just born today, in childhood, tomorrow, Monday, it will be a boy who begins to gallear and who will wait for a girl to go to the Virgin of the Museum on the platform. that boy, on Tuesday, It will be a man watching the Good Death of a man. We will have already married the city in party, we don't understand how you could live without it. Without realizing it, we will have turned thirty on Holy Wednesday, day that is that age when the child of Palm Sunday is no longer remembered. Holy Thursday comes as fast as the forties, you link it with the friday of the pull, with that dawn in which you think that the body is going to continue responding to you like on Palm Sunday, and you even dare to connect it with Friday afternoon, in which the tiredness of the legs listening to the dummy of La Mortaja tells you the age that the life you have lived in a week truly has on you, and it comes announcing what is coming, that this, life or holy week?, it's starting to end. What day of the whole week passes earlier than the afternoon of Good Friday?? When you realize, Not only has Dan Buenaventura's Soledad come out of her secret convent patio, is that it has already entered, How did La Carretería enter?. And I don't even want to tell you soon, almost without thinking, in the blink of an eye, that when we realize it is already Saturday and we are in front of the passage of the Canina.

Antonio Burgos / Box

The world, 23 March 1997

www.antonioburgos.com

Related Posts

• Tin speech Jarrillo
  Tin speech Jarrillo
• Macarena
  Macarena
• Armaos in San Lorenzo
  Armaos in San Lorenzo
• 

  Boys watching brotherhoods
  Boys watching brotherhoods

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.