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father poem

mi alma va revestida en cosas magnĂ­ficas
serene de la tarde y brillante verdes
es verdad que usted dice que los dioses son más uso a usted que hadas
miré sobre el cielo glorioso
el cuerpo puede confinar
no se aflija que encima
mientras que estaba parado escuchar, discreto mudo
para arropar el pensamiento ardiente
soy el viento que duda
ella cojea con parar paso doloroso
cuando voy de nuevo a la tierra
uno con usted
dondeyo encuéntrele

 



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