Blue Balloon

“For the child, loving cards and engravings,
The world is equal to its large appetite.
Ah! That the world is big in the clarity of lamps!
In the opinion of memory that the world is small!”
C. Baudelaire

Loved land, illusion is to have you.
Badly the time to see you,
Pregnant of green, salt and ground
flowers, fruits, fragrances and rhythms,
And it already abandons us without leaving.
Barks of words, dust of sounds,
Regards of the past help to renew
This first and last love.
The voice of Baudelaire, the scream of Rimbaud
They always Join to Van Gogh’s colors
And to the mighty harmonies of Beethoven
the retaken attempt
Of marking eternity
This visit that pain shuts in.