Clouds

Tonight, at a friend's house, I picked up a book called The Art of Travel. Flipping through, I found the following poem by Baudelaire. It made me think of someone I used to know. It also made me feel a little sad.

But... like The Outsider, I do love clouds.


"THE OUTSIDER"

Tell me, whom do you love most, you enigmatic man: your father, your mother, your sister or your brother?

I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother.

Your friends?

You’re using a word I’ve never understood.

Your country?

I don’t know where that might lie.

Beauty?

I would love her with all my heart, if only she were a goddess and immortal.

Money?

I hate it as you hate God.

Well then, what DO you love, you strange outsider?

I love the clouds… the clouds that pass by… over there… over there… those lovely clouds!