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houses demolished were now useless. I had to believe that it would allocate to public
use the park, to do away with the last stand. Just was all in order, I acted as I found to
carry out my plans.
The twenty acres were surrounded in a altamuralla, no windows, gates and doorwaysentry for me is underground, and a headquarters of botanists, zoologists and engineers,
after three years of work, has made the miracle.
In place of the nasty neighborhood inhabited by laborers, small employees, small
shopkeepers, is now a sort of virgin forest with long forests, meadows and waterways
where birds sing, where trees flower, which is barely audible, distant and confused ,
rumor infernal city. Part of the land has been converted into zoo, lions and panthers
roar where the kids and chatted rattled the gossips. In the forest I have intended to
introduce hares, squirrels and hedgehogs, and no one has the right to kill them. The
plants brought here as adults, and defended the safest methods are as vigorous and
multiply to the point of being shady trails and picturesque maze: the illusion of being
away hundreds of miles of the most populated city on earth .
There are no houses, except for some hidden pavilions for gardeners and guardians of
the beasts. Who goes on the outside sees nothing, enjoys nothing, perhaps, at night, in
the neighboring streets you will hear the roar of the tiger or the song of the
nightingale.
I I have only this small earthly paradise regained. I do not invite anyone in or
anyone. I spent a major part of my capital to be admired or to hear compliments, but
only to please the boy who led, many years ago, my same name and suffered the fetid
heap and the narrowness of the city, and finally has avenged restoring to light at least
one piece of those fields that the men had hidden under ignoble cell cubes ...
In the streets where everybody went, do not spend more than me. Where howling and
stinking cars, the placid bears roam. Where the lender were stationed awaiting a
victim, jackal revels in the sun.
I paid, in the heart of a proud city, colossal, the real treat, the most expensive, modern
man: isolation and silence. Those who pass on the outside and the high walls are bare
and know what's inside, exclaim: "Caprice of a madman!
I, however, I have the feeling that I made in the precincts of a vast madhouse, a small
but cheerful wisdom cell.