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romantic love poem

la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
vea, ellos vuelven
vi las nubes entre las colinas
suave como la cama en la tierra
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
le hizo oyen hablar siempre
cuando miraba en sus ojos
en la medianoche
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras
sea paciente, vida, cuando el amor está en la puerta


 



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