Borges and his universe, that universe which others call the Library, was able to give us an excellent text which describes the Library, can also be called Universe, like, use the words of Borges, "illuminated, solitary, infinite, perfectly motionless, equipped with precious volumes, useless, incorruptible, secret."
So, I think, absurd, I remembered those words that describe the universe we call library, I repeat, some of voracious Miss beauty that has touched me in the forms of "enlightened, solitary, infinite perfectly motionless, equipped with precious volumes, useless, incorruptible, secret. "
In this case armed with a vast, perhaps infinite array seduction.
When writing the word infinite, it is my duty to transcribe the final lines of the extraordinary text that gives this simple text.
Mauro E. Pontoni.
I write endless. I have not interpolated this adjective out of rhetorical habit; say it is not inconceivable that the world is infinite. Those who judge it to be limited postulate that in remote places the corridors and stairways and hexagons can conceivably stop, which is absurd. Those who imagine without limit forget that it is the number books as possible. I venture to suggest this solution to the ancient problem: The library is unlimited and cyclical. If an eternal traveler were to cross in any direction, after centuries that the same volumes were repeated in the same disorder (which, repeated, would be an order: Order). My solitude is gladdened by this elegant hope.
Epilogue: arbitrarily, chose a song dissolved "Jim Croce" call "The sunset of my idols, where Sosa April, talks about the purpose and new beginning, for that purpose and that new beginning the universe, which men call the Library, will close to the end of time and therefore the end of Love Is it the true love can only be overcome so long? My troubled mind, he replies, with a terrifying Si.
Jim Croce - The twilight of my idols
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