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friend poetry

no cuelgue ninguna guirnalda
pero no puedo ahora leerle
esos ojos negros i elogiado una vez tan
levantado de los muertos
poca puerta fue alcanzada en el Ăşltimo
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana
como ella
estaba parado
el aire es lleno de amanecer y de resorte
como baja el igualar
compuesto de loveliness solamente
qué ocasión spiteful roba unawares
a través del pecho de dolor de la amplia tierra

 



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