Source
Today, Saturday, the day begins
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.
