Canción Del Trovador Errante

I was a wandering troubadour
shadow on wingless paths
My riches
were those places
where my songs were learned
by those who showed them to me
vagabonds around their bonfires
circus lights and dogs' illuminations
where I became a transient spark
dissolved in the distant
antiphons known by the cicadas
My homeland was the outdoors
the harassed fields of elemental chlorophyll
and fauna in bloom
but it was also ash
Wednesday drizzles chewing
the dirty and nutritious loaf shared
by the ordinary outlaw
smiling and colossal
among the occasional warm
legs of a trained swan
I was a wandering troubadour
and now
after the passage of time
I am the one who lights the bonfires
who summons fireflies
and knows the name of the spark that jumps
from the crackling towards the night
comet of a tiny universe
where my hand is that of God
I mean
that of a colossally old vagabond
with eyes on the paths
with memory open to the only
wealth that awaits him
I will whisper my story to a wandering troubadour
shadow in search of souls
to share it by the warm occasional fires
that the road offers
to all who dream of a wild swan