[...] About nostalgia? Well, no, he never talked to me about nostalgia, although maybe he assumed that I would realize about that, given its status as a poet (...) Well, I do not know whether it will be as you say and it turns out that there is no nostalgia identical to another, but in this case, in principle, I would be inclined to be Xabier’s nostalgia as one that comes in Jack London, which is not nostalgia but hunting plot of a little Eskimo boy, who hunted bears giving them small balls of grease to eat where he had hidden baleens of whale as sharp as skewers. On melting the grease into the interior of the animal, those baleens came off little by little, as little by little also comes death: a death by which the bear knew that it was it itself that called for it from its interior. Although perhaps as it did not recognize the voice as its own, I guess, the bear had thought that it was the same soul that spoke. And perhaps Xabier’s nostalgia is like that, I think, maybe like that nostalgia that kills a bear. Maybe.

From "Isto non é un prólogo".
Xe Freyre

...
''O río permanece''
''Porque esquece a auga''
''Só o salgueiro vivo sabe a lenda da vida''.