I painted the water
I wrote the fire
I read the earth
I danced the wind
and I sang the sky
and in the sky, I walk in bad luck,
wash my right shoe in water from cloud
I take it off to clean it better
and drop it in the cloud below me,
with one leg dressed and the other undressed
out of shame I hide in my hat, it becomes magic,
and now on the roads of fantasy pass stories with fairies and dragons,
fairies with two souls
dragons with five heads,
I have wings to fly
I have the strength to lift fifty times the weight of the sky
to be able to regenerate lost parts of the soul,
I see my reflection in the butterfly and the caterpillar smiling, one under the antennae, the other under the moustache
in the grapes, which fill all the nooks and crannies, a few ripe ones also jump out at me
in the orange that peels off its skin
in the table that laughs with splashes of honey
in the half-empty glass that must give what it lacks the most.