by Jorge Luis Borges
““That was the magic spell he was casting when he was rubbed out by the revolvers' fire.”
“That was the magic spell he was casting when he was rubbed out by the revolvers' fire.”
““Others tell the story differently. The world cannot contain two things that are identical; no sooner, they say, had the poet uttered his poem than the palace disappeared, as though in a puff of smoke, wiped from the face of the earth by the final syllable.”
“Others tell the story differently. The world cannot contain two things that are identical; no sooner, they say, had the poet uttered his poem than the palace disappeared, as though in a puff of smoke, wiped from the face of the earth by the final syllable.”
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