The Stranger

‘Whom do you love best, puzzling man, tell us: your father, your mother, your sister or your brother?’

‘I have no father, no mother, no sister and no brother.’

‘Your friends?’

‘Now you are using a word whose meaning to this day remains unknown to me.’

‘Your country?’

‘I do not know in which latitude it lies.’

‘Beauty?’

‘I would willingly love her, were she a goddess and immortal.’

‘Gold?’

‘I hate it as you hate God.’

‘What do you love then, extraordinary stranger?’

‘I love the clouds… the passing clouds… there… there… the wonderful clouds!’

Charles Baudelaire