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Edited by José Luis León 

PRAGUE - On the 169 anniversary of José Martí's Christmas, I write something about the Apóstol de la Independencia de Cuba. About this señera figure they have llovid exégesis, testimonials, alabanzas, diificaciones, usages maniqueos de su pensamiento, ataques y hasta burlas. But Martí always escapes when he arrives, like a white and clean humo, inasible, like a figure a la which he would like to tender, but he never stops.

 Martí no es un Dios. But it is precisely to not live it, and before the agonic depth of his human life, taken with modesty and supreme sacrifice, that one can discover his sobrehuman estura. How do I spend a life of 42 years to do so much? 

Hace ya unos 10 años realicé my thesis de degree with José Martí as hipocentro, e me di cuenta de algo: no hay humor en Martí. Ojo: no es lo mismo sarcasmo o ironía que humor, chiste, al que yes were dados, por ejemplo, Maceo y Gómez. 

From the first written notes known by Martí, (aquel ¨Mírame, madre y por tu amor no llores¨…) up to the last page, Martí's life transpires an enforced agony, a conviction with which was consequent until 19 May 1895, day of his death in combat, and aun después. Porque Martí nos sigue giving claves, aristas que son como puertas de pensamiento que se abren. 

Of course, there will be these doors that are sumerjan, who spend time and neurons, and do not queden in the epidermis of the simplistic vision, quizás haunted by so much use, abuse and manipulation, usufructuary of the desacralization of all that draws the posmodernidad._cc781905 -5cde-3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_

Yo tampoco, con los años, soy muy dado a sacralizar nada. He has given me a lot of work (and continues to give me) to give concrete visions and rid me of hatred, rancor, prejudice and an inflated ego. Y, sobre todo, a no darle al que nome dio. 

Still not much, sometimes veo comentarios where Martí's life is minimized, locating him (using as a herramienta this pedestrian materialism more historical than historical) in his context and possible limitations of the time. 

De Homero hasta today the assumption has sido el mismo: decencia, el valor, la capacidad de entregarse de manera sequeente, trabajar por el mejoramiento humano, y dar la vida en ese empeño. Yes, it is ethical, and its praxis will always be in force.

 Por supuesto que no voy a negar los condicionamientos históricos, new scenes and new visions that bring science, fashions and other ingredients of progress, always in spiral. My point is the ethical eje and the capacity to enter into this whole end, which holds the vigor that toasts the existing eternal duality between good and bad.

 History, nature, thinking are full of dialectical equals that in their lucha impuls the world. But the star, the center, the dynamic point of rest of all this is ethical, in this example of life. 

They say that for the world the world has everything it has. It seems to me fine that it is thus, and abogo por esa pluralidad. No se le puede demandir a nadie una suprema entrega, una pasión sustainida, una capacidad de sacrificio personal, material y spiritual, minute a minute, de toda una vida, porque sería sobrehumano e injusto. 

But it seems to me unjust, limiting and empowering, además de tontería estéril, to deal with giving her strength to Martí, to deal with giving her tipsy to deal with giving her tips and others. And why tell some jokes that sometimes embarrass some medium, digital or in paper? 

Ya el mismo Martí foresaw it, cuando the decía Gómez that only could promise her the probable ingratitud de los hombres. Martí got to know the human soul, and the human soul, metro más or metro menos, era más or era menos, always has sido la misma. 

¿Qué fue un hombre atormentado por una idea, con la fijeza de un fin al que subordinó todo, including su propia vida? Sure. ¿Que no tuvo sentido del humor and gave her all a grave as a last chance? It is also certain. 

Martí se propuso desde niño imitar a Cristo. A man obsessed with a beautiful end. That for many of the media of llegar a ese end up being different, for the dueño of his unique and unrepeatable life, was the most effective, the quiso tomar. It is evident from his first steps, all the way off his fertile life, and in his death, that it was an act of giving ¨my blood for the blood of others¨. Only that, in the region of the sky, Martí dedicated his life (that I can have the sense of luxury and luxury, of infinite literary successes, of good meals and good jobs) to Cuba's independence. religion¨.

 Por eso me harass, y a lot, esos supuestamente critical comentarios, en esfuerzo por parecer muy intelectuales, o esos chistes de una iconoclastia que quizás tengan mucho swing para quienes los miten, o que se sientan con esto very original and novel, but that in the background it reveals a mediocrity embarrassed by envy so evident, that it is not the most useful to encolerizarse or compadecrse of so much pathetic poverty and spiritual mud.

 Y with all safety, none of the ¨criticos¨ of your supposed limitations, none of the jokers to those who raise resentment for other causes justas or injustas, none, en resumen, llega them to the bill Marcado por grillete del maestro de la lengua , del verso, de la prose encrespada y de presa. 

To the decent person who was José Martí Pérez, who knew how to appreciate her jealous envy, and forgive her. To the master of whom we have to deal with being in essence and not in appearance of Cubans, we still don't need to know him. But alas, this is the backlash, which will always be an internal dilema. 

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