In a languorous afternoon at the beginning Of twenty first century, you hear a voice Chanting verses of a song, in Spanish.

Lacking the knowledge, that which makes Men gods, you slowly repeat one (or three?) word To yourself over and over – an abstract mantra.

‘El del cristal’, you later find out means ‘In the mirror’. Language is the devil that has taken you in, the devilish mirror.

‘Infants don’t recognize themselves in mirrors’, you had read somewhere. What is that strips you of your self?

Language, of course, with its magical Labyrinth, that swan gliding with an image Of the sky, in the mirror held up by you.