Mexican literature -- Translations into English; Mexican prose literature
The crest of the eastern cordillera sharpens and defines itself against
a background of rose and gold; the majestic snow caps of Popocatepetl
and Iztaccihuatl, which rise as two colossi in order to display the
beauties of the sunrise, feebly illuminated on their western flanks by
the diffused light, appear as if made of Bohemian crystal. At times a
dense column of smoke, rendered visible by the whiteness of dawn, issues
from the crater of Popocatepetl, demonstrating the constant activity of
this volcano, which retains evidences of tremendous activity.
When the sun, rising above the horizon, pursues its upward march, it
presents a beautiful spectacle, difficult of description. Its disc, red
and apparently increased in size, on account of atmospheric refraction,
presents itself surrounded by a luminous aureole, and gradually
diminishes in diameter as it mounts higher. The antecrepuscular curve
submerged in the horizon, the west acquires the same succession of tints
and the upper part of the sky is colored with a brilliant, most vivid
blue.
From that moment the surroundings of the Capital city are most charming.
Chapultepec, with its many and limpid springs, its picturesque rock
mass, its poetic palace and its dense grove of ancient cypresses, from
the branches of which depend masses of gray moss--the honored locks of
their hoary age; Tacubaya with its palaces, its parks, and gardens;
Mixcoac with its pleasing environs and its lanes of fruit trees; San
Angel, Coyoacan, and Tlalpam, with their clear brooks, their gardens,
their fields, and their pretty glades, covered with plants, trees, and
interlacing climbers.
In all these places one enjoys the intoxicating freshness of the
morning, the attractiveness of the fields, the breathing of the fresh
air loaded with the perfume of flowers. There swarms of butterflies,
with gleaming and brilliant wings, display their beauties and
humming-birds, those precious winged gems which, endowed with an
extraordinary flight, cleave the air like an exhalation, or, sucking
honey from some flower, suspended in space, incessantly beat their wings
and expose the green and pearly lustre of their plumage to the
reflections of the sun.
South of the capital, the soil differs from that of the places
mentioned. There the camelia, the lily, the Bengal-rose, and the other
exquisite flowers of careful cultivation are not met; but there, in the
_chinampas_, those artificial islands which have converted swamps into
lovely gardens, grow the luxuriant poppy, the purple pink, the elegant
dahlia, the perfumed violet, and the fragrant rose of Castile.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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