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sad love poem

este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos
le cuento con
fuera de mí indigno y desconocido
las sombras de las naves
ella cojea con parar paso doloroso
los hice una oferta todo el adiós
las viejas canciones
hay tres maneras de las cuales los hombres toman
suave como la cama en la tierra
para mí era concejal gaunt, grave
estaba parado
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama
cuál deseo comentar
el mirar más allá

 



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