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romantic poem

en sus regimentals desiguales
nuestros momentos agradables vuelan
porqué lo haga
nosotros que estaban parados
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
como águilas en colmo ascendente
materia de la luna
apenas ahora
soporte aquĂ­ por mi lado
como miento cubierto adentro, defendido adentro
me preguntan donde he estado
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche

 



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