POETRY "THE CHILD OF WORDS"

Smells like arepa and mead.

childhood wage begins

opens his little eyes a being

Every day very early in the morning

at 5:00 a.m.

peeks out of his window

the child of words

And in the square very early in the morning

waiting for the tourists

becoming an artist

exchange verses for money

With her pink cheeks

burned by the cold

takes away my love

when he summons caraballo

Sir, a little coin

I tell him the whole story.

of sorrows, of glory

that a woman suffered

I'm crazy once. I'm crazy.

in a faraway outcrop

The mountain people

I invoke the poet in time

Andrés Eloy Blanco

said the wind

of the Andean passages

with words of encouragement

I sign his verse all over the moor

Sir, come and I'll explain.

1, 2, 3, 4,5

This is where the story happened.

of crazy Caraballo Light

Between phrases and words

chasing the rams

He's counting his stars.

and is making a living

revives poetry

of the Venezuelan writer

And they're looking for the hand

of the mother, who saw them leave

the one who once ran out of children and rams

your children are here

in this village square

receiving the coins

6,7,8,9,10

are reciting their verses

The afternoon's gone by now.

this child Merideño

who is falling into the dream

tomorrow will start again

This poem is dedicated to the great Venezuelan poet Andres Eloy Blanco who wrote the famous Loca Luz Caraballo poetry, this poem is recited by the children of the Mucuchies páramo, a tourist town located in the State of Mérida,
I also want to dedicate my lyrics to all the children who recite the "Poetry la Loca Luz Caraballo". every time the tourists come to visit me.