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famous poem

sueño dulce en sus sepulcros humildes
la oscuridad roba las formas de todas las reinas
puesto que, si usted hizo una pausa mi lado hoy
este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos
aunque soy poco como todas las pequeñas cosas
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
éstos sean
porqué lo haga
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
cuando era un muchacho en la universidad
cuando usted viene esta noche
pueden hablar de amor en una cabaña

 



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