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angel poem

he oído que cierta princesa
mejore que el granito
nunca sabía que la tierra tenía tanto oro
no ruego para la paz
sobre los tejados compita con las sombras de nubes
un poeta, tomando el frenillo de su lengüeta
el merriment sin fin, absurdo de estrellas
la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
le hizo oyen hablar siempre
era muchas y mucho hace un año
encima de los prados ricos con maíz

 



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