Tonight at the Puerta del Sol twelve chimes will ring on the clock that cradles the hours of Spanish history.
The square will be empty and escorted by the National Police.
It has been a year with end-of-the-world temptations.
We will not see
Vicente Aleixandre's
embraces
: "It was a large open square, and there was the smell of existence. There, everyone can look at each other and rejoice and recognize themselves. Enter the stream that demands you and there be yourself."
We continue with the curfew and the confinements and
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