The Albedo Apocalypse

The Albedo Apocalypse

The albedo is a dawn

-White work, for alchemists

it germinates implacably in the dark night

you can hide the first rays and make everyone believe that the night will be endless

then day arrives inexorably anyway

now comes the day

now comes the apocalypse

apocalypse, a beautiful word

a word steeped in Greek wisdom

remove the veil, it means

every day the dawn removes the veil of darkness from the earth and the darkness reveals itself to be only the antechamber of light

it is no longer desperate and meaningless

every molecule of darkness makes sense in the expectation of light

only when albedo is triggered do we understand that nigredo was an indispensable passage

I hated Marinetti, I hated Duchamp, I hated Picasso and I hated Kandinsky

geniuses in the service of darkness

geniuses devoted to destruction, prophets and fathers of contemporary sewage

now I have seen the light and only now do I understand that Marinetti and Duchamp and Picasso and Kandinsky were only the antechamber of what was being born

they were the left hand of God

I love Marinetti, I love Duchamp, I love Picasso and I love Kandinsky

pungent tesserae of an infinite mosaic

now I have seen the light and only now do I understand that darkness is indispensable for there to be light, evil is the necessary complement of good, the devil is the left hand of God

the dawn for me is made of words

those of the psalms that praise the mystery of the Lord

they have saved me from my abysses

-apocalypse in my abysses

words of psalms suspended between heaven and earth

words of psalms suspended between heaven and earth, hung on the clouds by prophets poets and mystics

I clung to them and found myself here, in the eternal

the albedo of the post-contemporary begins the instant the awareness of what is “contemporary” gradually emerges

what the western present we live in is made of

its deepest foundations, its Luciferian archetypes, its self-destructive instincts, its rejection of Beauty

darkness, pitch black, liquid and mechanical

and yet it is in that darkness that the seeds of the future brood

of a future of light and splendour, of rebirth and Renaissance

yes, Renaissance, the present of the West is also called Renaissance

the Renaissance was born from the ashes

ashes that speak Latin

Surgit ab undis clara dies, argentea luce,

Dum cycnus cantat per vada sacra sonans

Candida rosa nitet, matutino rore madescens,

Purgatrix animae, sicut amoena dies

Resurgunt umbrae, fugiunt ad Tartara noctes,

Et nivea in caelis alba columba volat

Per tenebras lucet divini luminis ardor,

Dum nova lux mundi, stella serena, micat

A clear day rises from the waves, of silvery light,

While a swan sings, resounding through sacred waters

A white rose shines, bathed in morning dew,

Purgatory of the soul, like an enchanting day

Shadows rise, flee the nights into Tartarus,

And a white dove flies in the white skies

Through the darkness shines the ardour of divine light,

While the world’s new light, the serene star, shines