The mountains rise fiercely, a testament of strength against time, each peak a memory of stone, a guardian of the weight of ages. Their vastness humbles the heart, echoes of winds that shape them, a richness unmatched, beyond the tender touch of man.

With my hands, I yearn to touch that granite skin, feel the chill of solitude, a place where eagles soar high, and thoughts dissolve in clarity. How beautiful it is here, where silence is a gift, a muse in the presence of giants, a stone paradise welcoming all.

• Pablo Neruda