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romantic poetry

antes del santo de bronce solemne
cuando volví en la puesta del sol
veo todos los ingenios humanos
tenía un sueño y me desperté con él
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
en el frunce de la oscuridad y piden
vi los archangels en mi manzana-a'rbol ayer por la noche
es usted despierto?
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
por las mañanas nube-grises
tristes son que saben no amor
cuál era él los motores dichos
su cara es justa y lisa y fina

 



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  • Search bayweekly.com - Bay Weekly
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