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math poem

la oscuridad roba las formas de todas las reinas
podríamos sino saber
reservado, con reverance, en temor
las canciones antiguas
gaily a través de los campos bailamos
hay cualquiera allí
ruédeme abajo por el prado
cuando libertad de su altura de la montaña
el rodillo triste del tambor amortiguado tiene golpe
hay un país por completo del vino
el pasar a través de las paredes amontonadas y feas
para arropar el pensamiento ardiente
no hay escape al lado del río


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