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funeral poem

el olor del se levantĂł tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
le hizo oyen hablar siempre
no esté enojado con mí
plantemos
he visto las estrellas más orgullosas
cuando era adaptĂł Londres
tenemos ninguna vergĂĽenza?
poco parque que paso a través
mi alma es un campo arado oscuro
vivido por la orilla
ese compañero extraño vino en mezclar pies
allĂ­ por la ventana en la vieja casa

 



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