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happy birthday poem

solitario y solitario
pensamientos a través de mi cabeza
viejo vino a beber
como él de quién alcohol en el resplandor del mediodía
usted dice que usted me ama
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
debajo de la luna de la cosecha
las cortinas de la noche caían rápidamente
y como caminamos la hierba fue revuelta débilmente
no dé vuelta a su cabeza
es verdad que usted dice que los dioses son más uso a usted que hadas

 



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