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Text: Reject the angel, and give the Muse a kick, and forget our fear of the scent of violets that poetry breathes out, and of the great telescope in whose lenses the Muse sleeps. The true struggle is with the duende. The roads where one searches for God are known, whether the barbaric way of the hermit or the subtle one of the mystic. ... And though we may have to cry out, in Isaiah's voice: Truly you are a hidden God,' finally, in the end, God sends his primal thorns of fire to those who seek Him. Each paragraph will be a test.

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