There are times when a man feels, Without remedy, overwhelmed. It happens with the death of others, with the announcement of a paternity, with a trip to the end of the world, with war, With an unequivocal love… and it happens with the temples of Angkor.
I think that day dawned just to illuminate Angkor Wat profiles. And there I was, smaller than ever, With Stendhal's paralysis, As I say, overwhelmed.
The human being has committed to transcend erecting sanctuaries to the gods, Palacios to the kings and mausoleums to the dead. I felt that almost agonized suffocation in front of the ruins of Machu Picchu and in Tikal's temples. Taj Mahal's sweet dizziness is not forgotten, nor the superhuman scale of the giza pyramids. I remember the unstoppable joy of discovering the coliseum or the infinite joy of losing me among the arches of the Mosque of Córdoba.
There, Between the jungle of Cambodia, In the heart of the wild, Time has returned the overwhelming of the masterpieces.
In Angkor I felt all that at a time. There, Between the jungle of Cambodia, In the heart of the wild, Time has returned the overwhelming of the masterpieces. Angkor is all that architecture can aspire to be. His temples are solemn and refined. Mix creeds because it is not necessary to reconcile gods to inspire the bold, nor is there sufficient weeds capable of curbing the artistic outburst of the jemeres.
During the ninth and fifteenth centuries he housed the monarchs of the time and their deities. The walls tell their history and between Hindus and Buddhists, They were forging the miracle.
It has giant pyramids, graves, Pasadizos, delicate ornaments, stupas that slide prayers and have trees breaking between the stones, roots so deep that boot walls.
Among all your temples, Maybe Bayon's is the most overwhelming. 54 Torres point to the stars and in each one they carved huge faces, that they smile at the visitor to show that they will continue here when you are not, What Angkor is eternal.
Everything makes such a sense, that even chaos reigns in branches balance, Mushroom and stone elephants.
An entire life is not enough to travel the 74 city temples. We entered through bridges guarded by huge statues and we reached a citadel full of temples and we understood that this was just a tiny part of what Angkor meant.
The enclosure is an audacity of such dimension that exceeds the most ambitious of pharaonic delusions. There is no holy place on the planet of that size and there is no corner, No wall, No misplaced stone. Everything makes such a sense, that even chaos reigns in branches balance, Mushroom and stone elephants.
For three days we drag the shock, without even exhausting our surprise ability. We record Angkor with voracity, unable to be up to the poetry we saw around.
There is nothing more exhausting than beauty. It is frustrating to walk their temples because the mere contemplation ends up wear, Not being able to assimilate its greatness.
When we left the place that served from different capitals of the Jemer Empire, We returned to the routine of the trip. But I felt that never before in my life I had known so.
