On the Fate of a Rose
Machine translation from the original, not yet reviewed by the author.
Original in Spanish
A rose is not a poem by God: it is a billboard for insects that natural selection created and perpetuates. Man sees it and thinks it is beautiful, but that concept exists only in his mind. The perfume, the color, the shape, everything that says to the bee “Come and eat!” says to man “Take me with you.” To the flower it is all the same.
So as not to cut short a beautiful life, some people prefer not to cut it. But that is foolishness: the rose will die tomorrow, whether on its bush or in a vase. Why shouldn’t a sad soul refresh itself in that trick of nature? To that end, its subjective beauty is a divine gloss.