Prologue, First Edition of “La Peregrinacion De Bayoan”




This book, more than a book, is hope; more than hope, a desire; more than desire, it is thirst.

Thirst for justice and truth;

Desire to prove that there is a better fortune than what man is seeking:

Hope that the example will prosper.

Bayoan told me: “Happy, my friend, are those who know the value of suffering; because they, upon concluding their pilgrimage through this world, will have found their Jerusalem, their Lord.”

Those of you who wander instead of living, continue with firm steps:

the misfortune which awaits you is so glorious, that you will not exchange it for the futile bliss of those who are happy.

May those who do not travel, not read.

By publishing this Journal, I commit a desecration which my conscience would punish with its hidden torment, if I saw it desecrated.

To skim through a book is to desecrate it.

Those who seek something more in life than a fragile fate, motivated by the book, will keep seeking.

Forgive me, if out of the mysterious longing I have for their happiness, I steal from obscurity a Journal written in the obscurity of a conscience.



Madrid, 1863





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