Since the Paleolithic, our surprise at death has not changed. When representing a funeral ritual, sadness and anguish are always included in the painting, in soft brushes or at high doses, depending on the emotional treatment of this culture, more expressive or moderate. We ritualized death trying to understand it. An unnecessary effort, but one that we continue to do after thousands of years. Understanding death would mean understanding life as a whole and it seems that we can only answer partial and limited questions. That's what science does. As Kant said, we will continue to ask ourselves what we cannot answer, because trying to understand it is part of who we are. The search for meaning to death is perhaps the greatest exponent of the will to understand, condemned to failure.

In some prehistoric burials, such as the Kurdistan Neanderthal site, buried remains are covered by an old pulley, which has led to the thought that flowers could be placed on the corpses. Leaving the deceased without death for the scavengers to kill the body, we consider it a cruelty; what to say of dragging the body tied to a horse, until Achilles devastated Hector's body. Antígona disobeyed the order of the king, who forced one of his brothers to leave the body as trash. Despite endangering his life, he never hesitated to offer him the right funeral pumps.

Funerals change place, on time, but the deep structure is immovable: you have to do something, stand for a moment and lay off the dead. We condolences and thank him; being rigid formulas, formalized expressions to express the pain, condolences seem contradictory. In many places and for a long time, women have been paid to rain at funerals, which is surprising for the current sensitivity, subordinated to the good expressions of emotions. Weeping men are always women in exchange for money, but the most famous tears in literature, the most masculine ones: Gilgamesh mourns the death of Enkidu, Aquiles la de Patroclo, of his father Jorge Manrique, Miguel Hernández la de Sijera, Lorca la de Sánchez Mejías.

Modern infidelity abandoned the rite and tried to move quickly to something else, only increased anguish. We must express the lack of understanding that the death of a loved one brings us through our participation in a collective liturgy, although this does not prevent suffering in isolation. In a heartbreak, like sonnets, they put order, metric, rhyme in horror. Discontent in proper form and place, because life has to follow, as the topic says. And it will go on. Miguel Hernández, in the beautiful church, said: "I'm going from my heart to my accounts without anyone's heat and comfort; from my broken heart to paying the fine in time so I don't lose the discount. Month underground, life satisfies him mercilessly. Life continues, because death is the only thing that has no remedy. It is not credible what Christians say, "He will be in his father's breath": if so, why don't they like death? But the supposed iconoclasm of those who do not go to condolences to funerals, on the excuse of their mere formality, is not understood either. No consolation: ritual, rhyme, routing of pain.

The final leg migrants who have arrived on the peninsula have just announced on the radio that several bodies were expelled from prison.