Libraries are also a definition of your cities. There are libraries
that are soul mates of cities that pause at five in the afternoon to
drink tea. Libraries that have heard the Marseillaise and have often
opened their windows to see in the street the tumult of revolution.
Libraries that are born in the frost of tall cathedrals, wounded by
fog. Libraries that are accustomed to the sirens of ships and that
submerge every dusk into a sailor's nostalgia.
The passerby should ask the libraries of Granada about the disoriented and emphatic character of this city. A city of the South with cold moons and fog, a city that does not know the sea nor drinks tea at five in the afternoon but that knows how to shut itself in the interior of a sailor's nostalgia and remembers the lost flags of its defeat, this history of centuries and silence that incarnates the water of the fountains and the murmur of leaves.
Luis García Montero
Translation by Alice McAdams