Borges - To the Son

It was not I who begot you.  It was the dead -- 
my father, and his father, and their forebears, 
all those who through a labyrinth of loves
descend from Adam and the desert wastes
of Cain and Abel, in a dawn so ancient
it has become mythology by now, 
to arrive, blood and marrow, at this day
in the future, in which I now beget you. 
I feel their multitudes.  They are who we are, 
and you among us, you and the sons to come 
that you will beget.  The latest in the line
and in red Adam’s line.  I too am those others. 
Eternity is present in the things
of time and its imaptient happenings. 

-AR.  Borges. To the Son.