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love poem

el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
le detesté
el eliminar, luchando vainly
usted es hermoso y descolorado
serene de la tarde y brillante verdes
mi alma va revestida en cosas magníficas
en y encendido
esté en mí como los humores eternos
con los ojos mansos, marrones
estoy muriendo
en el puerto de York nueva
porqué tan es triste mi encantador?
nunca en toda mi vida
como águilas en colmo ascendente

 



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