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un pequeño melocotón en la huerta creció
en y de sí mismo
el mirar más allá
había tres en el prado al lado del arroyo
llevo a cabo su corazón
él habla no bien
suave como la cama en la tierra
entre las montañas vagué
con la puesta del sol
la señora, su corazón ha dado vuelta al polvo
musing, entre la puesta del sol y la obscuridad
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
el elevar, como el viento sopló

 



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