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famous poem

el relámpago destellaba, y levantó
las montañas son gente silenciosa
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
felicidad
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
aquí cae ninguna luz
para entonces fuera
hay aumentos para todas nuestras pérdidas
no sea falso
de nuestros lugares ocultados
en sus brazos estaba el placer inmóvil
para venir tan pronto a esto imaginaba obscuridad
con los ojos mansos, marrones

 



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