[Esp-Eng] La Verdadera Historia de la Creación

Cuenta la leyenda que Dios estaba en su villa de verano en Andrómeda Spa, luego de dos años de eternidad de vacaciones, se levanta un día con una idea creadora, se coloca su bata de seda blanca con hilos de oro y sus sandalias de piel de cordero angelical.

Se sienta en el mirador universal, toma su peine de carey marciano y comienza a cepillar su barba, acción que realizaba para organizar sus ideas, mira hacia la inmensidad y ve las galaxias, los planetas y toda la belleza del universo, era su creación, algo digno de su deidad.

Pero faltaba algo, había belleza, pero no alegría, había luz, pero no claridad, había silencio de paz, pero no música, en ese momento cierra los ojos y se imagina un lugar semejante al cielo, con grandes miradores, muchos sitios de baño, grandes planicies, sitios fríos para los calurosos y calientes para los friolentos.

Que la inmensidad del cielo estuviese a la vista y las estrellas adornarán la noche, al imaginar esto suelta una sonrisa y sale corriendo, busca una botella de vino, Casillero del Diablo, cosecha, infierno, 1900 eternidad, toma una copa de cristal de cuarzo lunar y se sienta a esbozar su idea.

Busca un lápiz de grafito de Narnia y comienza a dibujar en un papel solar, pero de pronto algo genial se le ocurre realizar una maqueta de aquel sitio imaginario que sería el símil del cielo.

Mira entre el universo, ve los planetas y ve aquel diminuto planeta azul, cercano al sol, con un clima excepcional, con grandes extensiones de tierras, pero sin mucha variedad, era el lugar ideal para hacer realidad aquella creación.

Legend has it that God was in his summer villa in Andromeda Spa, after two years of eternity of holidays, he wakes up one day with a creative idea, he puts on his white silk dressing gown with gold threads and his angelic lambskin sandals.

He sits on the universal lookout, takes his Martian tortoiseshell comb and begins to brush his beard, an action he performed to organise his ideas, he looks out into the immensity and sees the galaxies, the planets and all the beauty of the universe, it was his creation, something worthy of his deity.

But something was missing, there was beauty, but no joy, there was light, but no clarity, there was silence of peace, but no music, at that moment he closes his eyes and imagines a place similar to the sky, with great viewpoints, many bathing places, great plains, cold places for the hot and hot for the cold.

He imagines that the immensity of the sky would be in sight and the stars would adorn the night. When he imagines this, he smiles and runs out, looks for a bottle of wine, Casillero del Diablo, vintage, hell, 1900 eternity, takes a glass of lunar quartz crystal and sits down to sketch his idea.

He reaches for a graphite pencil from Narnia and begins to draw on a piece of solar paper, but suddenly something brilliant occurs to him to make a model of that imaginary place that would be the simile of heaven.

He looks at the universe, sees the planets and sees that tiny blue planet, close to the sun, with an exceptional climate, with large areas of land, but without much variety, it was the ideal place to make that creation a reality.