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marriage poem

una niebla conducía abajo
el sol caminó abajo de su trono de oro
un pensamiento dulce solemne
soy el viento que duda
qué ocasión spiteful roba unawares
hay aumentos para todas nuestras pérdidas
en y encendido
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana
el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
poco parque que paso a través
para poder ver cada lado de cada pregunta
para arropar el pensamiento ardiente

 



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