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funeral poem

debajo del timón del guerrero
estrella-polvo y luz vaporosa
sueńo dulce en sus sepulcros humildes
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
y todavía caminaron encendido
me preguntan donde he estado
hay uno que ese i amó una vez tanto
el amo de destinos humanos es yo
truely
estoy en amor con los altos lugares far-seeing
nuestros momentos agradables vuelan
no puedo sentir siempre su greatness
el prado se arrastraba

 



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