The
gamble begins: I set off for Spain.
The
caravan of the past travels to the present :
A
paradox on wheels, it stops time moving in the wakes.
Barcelona,
Zaragoza, Madrid, Granada, Córdoba, San Sebastián,
six
places from East to North,
the
silhouette of a bird traced onto a map.
Eight
summer days,
a
calendar of Sundays.
The
emissaries are sent,
the
gift I carry with me:
I
would swap your notebook for a book with mirrored words,
each
concert for faith in the miracle.
Let
us wish each other a good trip.
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