In Thinking of Barcelona

Barcelona

The leaves on the trees

Of Barcelona are new

But what things the trees have seen

The yellow flowers on the trees

Of Barcelona are new now in Spring

And drop onto our table

As we sit

Drunk with the sangria of life

In the spring

In Barcelona

But what things the seasons have seen

The yellow flowers have dropped

Bright and Golden

On the gray of cobbled street

Now red with the blood

Of those who have loved

The trees of Barcelona

And have swept the golden blossoms

Of the trees of Barcelona

Dreading the changing seasons

Of the streets of Barcelona

The air of Barcelona is warm and thick

Like unchilled wine

But what things the air has felt

In the hours of Barcelona

Warm like the thoughts of

Those who love the city more than life

Thick like the smoke that charges the air

With acrid strife

In the death of the city of Barcelona

What things the trees have seen

What things the flowers fall on

How thick the charged air

By the life

In the streets of Barcelona

So, we sit, drunk with the wine of freedom

Bought and paid for

In the streets

Of Barcelona.