It is probable / likely . . .That I have seen / that I saw, one day

 

The collapse of the sun . . .

And got the gold that was scattered / dispersed / strewn around / sprinkled from it (or by it, or ‘its scattered [etc] gold’)

Above / over the sea’s palms [as in hand, not tree]And closed my ribs

Around the remains of the fleeing warmth

And searched for a farewell with persistence . . . [the search or etc being described here, not the farewell; it’s an adverb]

In the piles of sandAnd I crossed / measured the city . . .

Coming and going

I loitered around / in the old cafes

And sipped at/from beer bottles / bottles of beer

I met friends and visitors

And sat with writers and revolutionaries [end word rhymes with previous line]

And I spent between the crowded tables

Long hours . . .And I ascended and descended

Streets and discussions

But I remember that I

Bought one day . . .From the next end of the street

A mizmar . . .

And stood under a balconyWatching the wet newspapers

And the heavy clothes . . .

 

I fiddle with my feet

in a little pool of water

So that I make / in order to make / making circles

that do not end . . .And it is probable that also I;Encountered by chance an embrace . . .and some kisses

 

rapid,

And I smiled at the blind seller

As I gave him the price of my socks

 

Then I spent the day . . .

Crossing my legs

So as to / in order to / and then seeing the cheerful colours . . .Really;Perhaps I gathered together one day . . .

Many happinesses:

I awoke in a warm bed

— I didn’t cough and my nose wasn’t running ––

And didn’t appear on my woollen coatA big hole . . .

And I kept it [the coat] over my chest

With a few buttons hanging off . . .And I was able once or twice

To manufacture a heavy cloud

On the front of a cold bottle,

And I draw with my finger

A wide sail

And a circle at the top of the cloud

And zigzagging lines . . .And I stretched out on the wooden bench

The heavy,

With no back [the bench not her]

And put under my headA pile of beautiful rubbish / a beautiful pile of rubbish

I had chosen with care . . .Extreme.And I occupied the steps of the tram . . .

For days I cannot count,In fact I sat

A few times

On the soft leather seat,

Opened my mouth to the winds,

And stuck my head out of the window.I preserved in my memory . . .

Many addresses,Like I possessed on some occasions . . .

A newspaper,

And I gathered stars,

That filled my pockets

And coloured papers . . .Shall I tell you?

I did in fact many things

But I definitely

Haven’t been here before

And I haven’t stumbled upon you ever . . .

Only

If you give me

A morsel of bread

To shut up my hunger,

Then it’s probable . . .

That I will possess one day

Something for us to share out:

A charming*** meat sandwich,

A book,

Some shoes,

A newspaper . . .

Or another scrap of bread

That will be in my nap sack