The troops of ALMAGRO and ALPHONSO meet on the plain of CUZCO --. MANCO -CAPAC attacks them by nights--His army is defeated, and he is forced to fly with its scattered remains--CORA goes in search of him-- Her infant in her arms--Overcome with fatigue, she rests at the foot of a mountain--An earthquake--A band of Indians fly to the mountain for shelter--CORA discovers her husband--Their interview--Her death --He escapes with his infant--ALMAGRO claims a share of the spoils of Cuzco--His contention with PIZARRO --The Spaniards destroy each other--ALMAGRO is taken prisoner, and put to death--His soldiers, in revenge, assassinate PIZARRO in his palace--LAS CASAS dies--The annual festival of the PERUVIANS --Their victories over the Spaniards in Chili--A wish for the restoration of their liberty--Conclusion.
At length ALMAGRO and ALPHONSO'S train,
Each peril past, unite on Cuzco's plain;
CAPAC resolves beneath the shroud of night
To pierce the hostile camp, and brave the fight;
Though weak the wrong'd PERUVIANS ' arrowy showers
To the dire weapons stern IBERIA pours,
Fierce was th' unequal contest, for the soul,
When rais'd by some high passion's strong controul,
New strings the nerves, and o'er the glowing frame
......
In this faceless crowd I wish would disappear
Or I wish I become invisible
I don't want to be here
I rather poke my eyes
With a plastic fork
For they are burnt from the solitude
I am experiencing at the moment
But it's in the insides
They can't see that it grows
As I feel inadquate like a stranger
......
The memory of you emerges from the night around me.
The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea.
Deserted like the wharves at dawn.
It is the hour of departure, oh deserted one!
Cold flower heads are raining over my heart.
Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked.
In you the wars and the flights accumulated.
......
'What is the world, O soldiers?
It is I:
I, this incessant snow,
This northern sky;
Soldiers, this solitude
Through which we go
Is I.'
The Frost performs its secret ministry,
Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry
Came loud--and hark, again ! loud as before.
The inmates of my cottage, all at rest,
Have left me to that solitude, which suits
Abstruser musings : save that at my side
My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.
'Tis calm indeed ! so calm, that it disturbs
And vexes meditation with its strange
And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood,
......
In this faceless crowd I wish would disappear
Or I wish I become invisible
I don't want to be here
I rather poke my eyes
With a plastic fork
For they are burnt from the solitude
I am experiencing at the moment
But it's in the insides
They can't see that it grows
As I feel inadquate like a stranger
......
I am an island
I wish not to be enslaved
To anyone
I never felt free among the many
I am lonelier in a crowd
As I avoid friendship
For, in the end, they disappear
Into the past
And my heart breaks once again
The weary mind seeks repose in the
mundane days
Sands of time slipping through the fingers,
some still sticking to the skin—
reminding of joy and sorrow all along
Every pain gives a lesson
and every lesson changes the vision-
questioning trust and self-belief
Amid silent breaths and slow heartbeats
......
What prayers do I say
At the catacombs
This morning of high dew?
And who shall burn a taper
Behind me
To ease the ghost-darkness of a
Frightened city?
What stanza of the paternoster
......
Reaching out
Desperate, pleading
But no response
No response
No response
Although I’m trying
Although I’m dying
There’s no response
No response
......