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christmas poems

mi alma va revestida en cosas magníficas
no permanezca no más
esos ojos negros i elogiado una vez tan
ella oyó a niños el jugar en el sol
tormenta
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
sol y viento y golpe del mar
la medianoche pasada
pero alas, sueños justos
el amanecer era verde
hay cualquiera allí
resido en la montaña de la tabla
en la obscuridad y la paz de mi cama final
una pluma del acero

 



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