Maguey silvestre de sabores y tonos hervales, crece en los bosques bajos y en las laderas. Tarda 12 años en madurar.
—But without mesacl, he imagined, he had forgotten eternity, forgotten their world’s voyage, that the earth was a ship, lashed by the Horn’s tail, doomed never to make her Valparaiso. Or that it was like a golf ball, launched at Hercules’s Butterfly, wildly hooked by a giant out of an asylum window in hell. Or that it was a bus, making its erratic journey to Tomaledn and nothing. Or that it was like—whatever it would be shortly, after the next mesacl. His second mesacl had become serious. Mescal tears came to the Consul’s eyes .From the book Under the volcano . The writer is Malcom Lowry.
No está tan mal
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