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best love poem

porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
tiene usted el caminar visto a través de la aldea
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello
naranjas de desplume nubian azul-negras
sea paciente, vida, cuando el amor está en la puerta
cuando libertad de su altura de la montaña
con su pelo flaying violentamente
las cortinas de la noche caían rápidamente
levantado de los muertos
era una diosa ere el mármol me encontró
soy una mujer

 



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