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short poem

era el otońo del ańo
estoy muriendo
un destello del oro en gloom y gris
noche misteriosa
en pasillos del sueńo usted vagó cerca
está a menudo no tan?
el existir del cisne
estos corazones fueron tejidos de alegrías y de cuidados humanos
el mirar más allá
tristes son que saben no amor
calma como que segundo verano
viejo vino a beber
era no para ese olor singular
era una diosa ere el mármol me encontró

 



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