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i love you poem

debajo de la hoja oscura del laurel
en pasillos del sueño usted vagó cerca
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
y mi nombre es veraz
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo
vi las nubes entre las colinas
la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
era no para ese olor singular
usted es mi compañero
la señora, su corazón ha dado vuelta al polvo

 



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