Pompas de Jabón

At the park entrance the guy
blew through the thread
that wrapped around a wire
dreams of soap.

No child ignores the flight
of bubbles to the sky
unleashing wings to the imagination

As it took a long time
without being able to close a deal
I went to exchange with two coins
my memories and fantasies
for a blue little bottle
like the illusion.

I found a distant path
where, the profane eyes
of people, didn't see me smile
and I hung spheres to the wind, that
lasted a moment
and burst in colors that I lost

And in the end I didn't find myself happy
but quite the opposite
I felt sorry for not being able to
enjoy the miracle more
of those tones that hurt
my heart

Soap bubbles
are blue and purple
soap bubbles
They invite you to the laughter
of a wonderful world
that you would like to reach
and upon touching it you realize
that it doesn't really exist.

As a child I ran after them
to taste their flavor
to catch the colors
that are nothing but illusions

I preferred the round ones
whether big or small
and today they deny me the charm
they offered me yesterday
and although I put enthusiasm into it
I have only been able to see

Soap bubbles
tempting and happy
Soap bubbles
from less gray times
that I treasure in memory
and that fill me with emotion
there I was making soap bubbles

Soap bubbles
are blue and purple
Soap bubbles
they invite you to laughter
they are reflections, they are spheres
that have soared to the sky
through which they roll lightly
towards the sun
they have been nothing
They have only been soap bubbles.