Meeting Benches World art in all forms
I WOULD LIKE TO BE CHILD
I would like to be a child, to match the distance clouds up lame form, go to the merriment of what is small, and wonder, as who does not know him, the color of the leaves. How was it? To ignore what is green, the green sea, the healthy response of the sunset in retreat, the shy trickle of stars, over the wall near, be a child, that falls suddenly, inside a train with angels, who came as well, the holiday, to run for a short between the grapes, or for night fled from other nights, the higher geometry. But footprint, what should I be? If you were born to me these eyes so big, and these clear wishes of the bias. How can I be, by now, that I want, baby green, girl won the contemplations, falling from itself rosy, and grieved me very much to say, to seize back the word fleeing, lightning ran away from my flesh, and I doluto is very bitter at times, unrepentant and alone, and talk about things undone, things shades of children, of undisguised candor, or simple bees, yoked to sad rosaries. Or be filled with these shots, which change me the world at a great distance, how can I be now, little girl in turmoil, changing and pure form, or simply, a child lightly, differing in color, and suitable for the farewell at every hour.
(Eunice Odio)
