MorganCourse

One of my favorite books Divina Comedia by Dante Alighieri, is an epic poem, literary genre that consists of the narration in verse of the feats of the heroes. Such feats constitute a virtue model, whether true or fictitious.. This text represents a compendium of medieval culture and knowledge, both in the religious and in the philosophical, scientific and moral spheres.. Originally, the poem was called comedy, a name that designated the works with happy endings, by opposition to the classical concept of tragedy.. When Giovanni Boccaccio received the order to write about the work, he called Divine Comedy to show the centrality of Christian values.. Dante, the alter ego of the poet, is lost in the middle of a dark jungle.. At dawn, it reaches an illuminated mountain, where it is besieged by three symbolic animals: a leopard, a lion, and a wolf.. Virgil's soul, the Latin poet, goes to his aid and let him know that his beloved Beatriz has entrusted him to take him to the doors of Paradise.. For that, they must first go through hell and purgatory. In the first part of the journey, Virgil accompanies the pilgrim through nine infernal circles, in which Dante glimpses the ruges suffered by the impious sinners.. In the second part, the pilgrim poet knows the purgatory, where sinful souls, but contributions, purify their sins to ascend to heaven.. In the third part, Dante is received by Beatrice at the doors of Paradise, since Virgil has the forbidden entrance for having been pagan.. Dante knows the sky and witnesses the victory of the saints and the glory of the Most High. Illuminated and converted by revelation, the pilgrim poet returns to Earth and decides to testify to his trip in a poem for warning and advice of humanity..

The room was illuminated by soft candlelight, creating dancing shadows on the walls. She, dressed in a seductive black corset that highlighted her curves, moved with an almost hypnotic grace.. Her skin, of an alabaster tone, shone slightly under the dim light, inviting to be touched and explored.. He watched her from the shadows, feeling his heart speed up with every step she took. The tension in the air was palpable, as if each shared breath was charged with desire.. When he finally approached, the brush of his hands over her exposed skin sent shivers down her spine. Their lips met in a deep and delicious kiss, a meeting of passions that promised more. She arched into him, allowing his fingers to play along her waist, as his breath intertwined with hers, creating a melody of whispers and sighs.. Each touch was a promise, an invitation to explore the most hidden corners of his desires.. At that moment, the outside world disappeared, becoming just a distant echo.. They gave themselves to each other, letting the fire of their passion burn, consuming them in a whirlwind of pleasure and connection that blurred the lines between desire and reality..

And this for these nights in which I cheat for here, it is titled Nocturno III: One night, all full of perfumes, murmurs and allas music, in which the fantastic fireflies were burned in the bridal and wet shadow, slowly, slowly, against me all, mute and pale as if a feeling of infinite bitterness until The most secret background of your fibers will be stirred, by the path that crosses the flourished plain walks, and the moon full through the suggestive, infinite and deep skies spread its white light. And your shadow, fine and languid, and my shadow. For the rays of the moon projected on the sad sands of the path they got together and were one and were a single long shadow! Tonight alone, the soul full of the infinite bitterness and agonies of your death, separated from yourself by the shadow, for time and distance, by the black infinity where our voice does not reach, alone and mute, on the path he walked. And the barking of the dogs to the moon, the pale moon, and the chillido of the frogs were heard. I felt cold. It was the cold they had on your bedroom your cheeks and your temples and your hands worshiped among the white white. Of the mortuary sheets. It was the cold of the grave, it was the cold of death, it was the cold of nothing. And my shadow. For the rays of the projected moon I was alone in the lonely steppe. And your slender and agile shadow; Fine and languid as on that warm night of the dead spring, as on that night full of perfumes, murmurs and wing music, he approached and marched with her.. Oh the linked shadows! Oh the shadows that come together and are looking for blacks and tears on the nights!