My Delirio Sobre El Chimborazo: A work that shows the human and poetic quality of the Liberator

On October 13, 1822, the Liberator Simon Bolivar wrote My Delirio Sobre El Chimborazo, one of the most outstanding pieces of Venezuelan romanticism in the 19th century. In this work, we can observe the human and poetic quality of a warrior who brought freedom to six nations.

Simón Bolívar wrote his inspired poem when he visited El Chimborazo, which is the volcano and the highest mountain in Ecuador and the farthest point from the center of the Earth, that is, the closest point to space or the sky as you want to see, which is why that place is called the closest point to the Sun.

El Libertado r, a political and military genius, was called the man of difficulties, given the enormous amount of setbacks he had to overcome to carry out the liberation of American nations from the Spanish yoke. With a strong sword and an incendiary verb, he had fire in his soul as a distinctive sign. He wrote his delirium with his heartbeat and the fervor of his blood.

Below is My Delirium About El Chimborazo:

I was wrapped in the mantle of Iris, from where the mighty Orinoco pays his tribute to the God of Waters. I had visited the enchanted Amazon fountains, and I wanted to climb to the Watchtower of the Universe. I looked for the traces of La Condamine and Humboldt; I followed them boldly, nothing stopped me; I reached the glacial region, the ether suffocated my breath. No human plant had stepped on the diamond crown placed by the hands of Eternity on the exalted temples of the ruler of the Andes. I said to myself: this mantle of Iris, which served as a standard for me, has traveled in my hands over hellish regions, has crossed rivers and seas, has risen on the gigantic shoulders of the Andes; the earth has been leveled at the foot of Colombia, and time has not been able to stop the march of freedom. Belona has been humiliated by Iris's radiance, and won't I be able to climb on the gray hair of the Earth's giant? Yes, I can! And overcome by the violence of a spirit unknown to me, which seemed divine to me, I left behind the traces of Humboldt, tarnishing the eternal crystals that surround the Chimborazo. I arrive as if driven by the genius that encouraged me, and I faint when I touched the cup of the sky with my head: the threshold of the abyss was at my feet. A feverish delirium engulfs my mind; I feel as if ignited by a strange and superior fire. It was the God of Colombia who possessed me. All of a sudden, Time appears to me under the venerable face of an old man burdened with the spoils of the ages: frown, slanted, bald, curly complexion, a sickle in my hand... “I am the father of the ages, I am the arcane of fame and secrecy, my mother was Eternity; the limits of my empire are marked by Infinity; there is no sepulcher for me, because I am more powerful than Death; I look at the past, I look at the future, and the present passes through my hands. Why do you get upset, boy or old, man or hero? Do you think your Universe is something? What is it to lift yourself on an atom of creation to rise up? Do you think that the moments you call centuries can serve as a measure for my arcana? Do you imagine that you have seen the Holy Truth? Are you madly assuming that your actions have a price in my eyes? Everything is less than a point in the presence of the Infinite who is my brother.” Overwhelmed by a sacred terror, “how, oh Time! —I answered— shouldn't the miserable mortal who has risen so high vanish? I have passed on to all men in fortune, because I have risen above everyone's head. I dominate the earth with my plants; I reach the Eternal with my hands; I feel the infernal prisons bustling under my steps; I am looking with me shining stars, the infinite suns; I measure without amazement the space contained in matter, and on your face I read the History of the past and the thoughts of Destiny.” “Observe,” he told me, “learn, keep in your mind what you have seen, draw before the eyes of your peers the picture of the physical universe, of the moral universe; do not hide the secrets that heaven has revealed to you: tell the truth to men.” The ghost disappeared. Absorbed, quiet, so to speak, I was exhausted for a long time, lying on that immense diamond that served as my bed. Finally, the tremendous voice of Colombia screams at me; I resurrect, I step up, I open my heavy eyelids with my own hands: I become a man again, and I write my delirium.

Mazo News Team