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cuando las horas del día se numeran
hay cualquiera allí
melancolía, azul era
pharaoh, rey de la tierra de Egipto
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
trenzado y tejido
en el amanecer, él dijo
un poeta, tomando el frenillo de su lengüeta
porqué entonces, la necesidad nosotros ve?
debajo de la luna de la cosecha
brilla la edad pasada, el siguiente con esperanza se ve
el cielo
qué yo le deben
entre las montañas vagué

 



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