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family poem

usted está claro
en el puerto de York nueva
cuando era adaptó Londres
la pienso espléndido justo
dice de buenas viejas épocas
es usted vivo?
éste es el arsenal
en pasillos del sueño usted vagó cerca
de'bil-se va volando la canción
todavía su gris oscila la torre sobre el mar
usted es mi compañero
allí por la ventana en la vieja casa
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama

 



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