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romantic poetry

la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
dígame menos o dígame más
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
poco parque que paso a través
el amor se ha cantado mil maneras
usted recuerda
hay un país por completo del vino
soy cansado de ser amargo y cansado de ser sabio
ahora mientras que están viviendo mis labios
usted oye la lluvia?
era no para ese olor singular
pájaros contra el viento de abril
una tormenta está montando en la marea
dos filas de coles

 



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