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poem for pastors

tengo gusto de ella
hasta su ventana del compartimiento
vi que el dios usted la duda?
oscuro-eyed
el banquete real fue hecho
el eliminar, luchando vainly
como vela blanca
fuera de mí indigno y desconocido
vi con los ojos abiertos
como miento cubierto adentro, defendido adentro
ruédeme abajo por el prado
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
he venido en el desierto porque mi alma es athirst
gaily a través de los campos bailamos

 



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