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poem for pastors

contra la llama verde del espino-a'rbol
arqueó la inundación
ruidos que se esfuerzan rasgarse
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
hago mi cubierta, pero nadie sabe
haga a muchachos y las muchachas todavía van
la mujer faltó mucho, cómo usted llama a mí, llamada a mí
tiene usted el caminar visto a través de la aldea
el sol caminó abajo de su trono de oro
dígame menos o dígame más
usted recuerda

 



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