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black poetry

el sol caminĂł abajo de su trono de oro
ahora mientras que están viviendo mis labios
naranjas de desplume nubian azul-negras
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
tenemos ninguna vergĂĽenza?
vi que usted hunched y temblando en las piedras
una tormenta está montando en la marea
el rodillo triste del tambor amortiguado tiene golpe
para venir tan pronto a esto imaginaba obscuridad
habĂ­a tres en el prado al lado del arroyo

 



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