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sad love poem

cuando libertad de su altura de la montaña
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
trenzado y tejido
por las mañanas nube-grises
el pasar a través de las paredes amontonadas y feas
usted oye la lluvia?
el sol está para arriba
vi las nubes entre las colinas
dentro de mi mano sostengo
nuestros momentos agradables vuelan
viejo vino a beber
éstos sean
si era muy seguro
en todas las cosas no habladas de

 



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