Um tríptico sobre Deus

3) Body

Are you admired with all your fatigue? All that is carved in you, in blood, in light, in ointment - o Christ, you blissful creature, what an enormous sign of terror you have become. I love Magdalene. I love her gleaming hair and the impudicity of her nakedness. I love her knees, where a child could have been sited all morning long swaying like in a cradle made of bones and roses. What do you hide inside your demented eyes? Was it pain or the beginning of pleasure? See the squalid, horrid, fragile body being taken down from the crux. There you were the first Magdalene. The one that once said master and so master he had become. Do you remember Magdalene, after all the guilt had been burden on your round shoulders; after all the bodies that have consumed your own - here lies the ghost, the obscene spirit, the perpetual feretory with the smell of death, with the morbid kindness of an emaciated saint. How febrile you seem to be now. How wasted. Bring back your body Magdalene and may we all return to our own bodies as if they were the last abode of the flesh.