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poem for dad

no esté enojado con mí
déjeme ser triste
raza alto-llevada
tenemos ninguna vergüenza?
mientras que estaba parado escuchar, discreto mudo
y va tan
su cara es justa y lisa y fina
nuestros momentos agradables vuelan
en la obscuridad y la paz de mi cama final
allí por la ventana en la vieja casa
gaily a través de los campos bailamos
amo mi hora del viento y de la luz
vi la primera pera
debajo de la luna de la cosecha


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