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friendship poetry

este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos
tenían él e i pero satisfecho
en la obscuridad y la paz de mi cama final
splendor dulce
cuando el velo de los ojos se levanta
a través del pecho de dolor de la amplia tierra
su pelo hermoso
estaba parado
las sombras de las naves
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas
no permanezca no más
el amo de destinos humanos es yo
allí por la ventana en la vieja casa
tristemente hablando

 



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