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funeral poem

la señora, su corazón ha dado vuelta al polvo
he sabido el silencio de las estrellas y del mar
hago mi cubierta, pero nadie sabe
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
ciudad que no es una ciudad
en el amanecer, él dijo
debajo de la luna de la cosecha
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
oscuro-eyed
encima de los prados ricos con maíz
el movimiento de su cuerpo es como música
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos

 



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