The heatwaves have come to Gredos. I hear that the wildfires have turned the field of pine saplings into a sea of flames! O sierra of Gredos, you have accompanied the Great St. Theresa in her journey to the Father, you have cradled me to rest in your embrace. How resplendent are your many natural treasures, how wondrous your crowning joy, Almanzor? How cruelly have our memories been incinerated, consigned indiscriminately to the inferno? Alas, I cannot bear to look back into the past. The glory of days bygone; I no longer want them! Vile and repugnant ignominies have infiltrated the gilded days, and fouled all that is beautiful. Yet just as surely that the pimpollos will sprout again from the blanket of ash, so will I be whole again. My love, when I find you at the end of the earth, let us deliver our souls at Compostela: We shall gaze upon the sierra with fresh eyes; we shall ring the church bell at Navalsauz.
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