For a Version of I Ching by Jorge Luis Borges

Para una versión del I King El porvenir es tan irrevocable Como el rígido ayer. No hay una cosa Que no sea una letra silenciosa De la eternal escritura indescrifrable Cuyo libro es el tiempo. Quien se aleja De su casa ya ha vuelto. Nuestra vida Es la senda futura y recorrida. Nada nos dice adiós. Nada nos deja. No te rindas. La ergástula es oscura, La firme trama es de incesante hierro, Pero en algún recodo de tu encierro Puede haber un descuido, una hendidura, El camino es fatal como la flecha Pero en las grietas está Dios, que acecha. For a Version of I Ching The imminent is as immutable As rigid yesterday. There is no matter That rates more than a single, silent letter In the eternal and inscrutable Writing whose book in time. He who believes He’s left his home already has come back. Life is a future and well-traveled track. Nothing dismisses us. Nothing leaves. Do not give up. The prison is bereft Of light, its fabric is incessant iron, But in some corner of your mean environs You might discover a mistake, a cleft. The road is fatal as an arrow’s flight But God is watching in the narrowest light. -- Jorge Luis Borges (trans. by Eric McHenry) Twitter：@camelliayang Website: https://www.camelliayang.com/ Join 1,000+ lifelong learners to receive a monthly newsletter from the Chiwi Journal.