Do you still remember that dreamland, immense and boundless ?

Land of childhood and of the heart, with a year that oscillates between two seasons: dry and rainy. First the dew in the grass, the dust, the cold, the chirps of the crickets that saturate the air in the evening, the feet that chill and the lips that dry. Then, the smell of wet sand, the flying ants that sprout from the earth, the raining suns and the croaking in the ponds.

Do you still remember that dreamland and those faces drawn on the sand with a twig ?
Caterpillars with peanut and chilli sauce, cassava tubers, basins of vegetables balanced on the heads of the saleswomen?
Do you remember the children we used to hold hands and spin around singing, whispering stories in front of a fire, playing soccer and swimming in the river ?

Of the string in the braider’s mouth, of the water poured on the still hot embers to extinguish them and reuse them later, of the saliva applied on the burn, of the little insect in the eye that we chased away with a breath, of the loincloth cord around the hips of the little girls, of the salt that served as toothpaste, of the bottles filled with grasshoppers, of the beer cap flattened and glued to the heel of the shoe of the avocado that ripens at the bottom of the flour bag, of the mango leaf propeller, of the hollow tubes of the papaya branches to play war, of the sweet potato under the brazier, of the smell of the palm oil on the skin, of the shape frozen in the heart of the marble, of the cast-iron brazier with a rooster clasp, of the clothes that dry on the high grass, of the broom stem taken out of the brazier that is stirred to make elliptical shapes in the dark. ..
Do you remember this land of dreams ?