(To Rimbaud)


Just arrived to the existence

I,  poor evolutionated hominid,

met with this mysterious world

where a thousand strange forces surround us,

where we do not know

where we come from

nor where we go.


And I made up, to defend myself,

a thousand spirits and little devils

that inhabited everything

and to everything they gave my meaning

and I myself was a spirit

that floated at random

by the seas of the Poem.


And,  so  I did believe in the pearls

of vowels and the horses

of consonants and in the gallant parties

of words and, clasping with both hands the railings

of phrases, I saw beyond what does exist,

like a set of blurred spots

that moved, mysteriously,

in darkness.







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