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autumn poem

poco parque que paso a través
hice un voto una vez, uno solamente
el amo de destinos humanos es yo
y pan del breaketh no más
la señora, su corazón ha dado vuelta al polvo
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama
todos tragan los años
el pequeño lamentable, usado, caras el reír
una mirada es solamente un rayo
tome mis pulseras
no puedo sentir siempre su greatness
no se aflija que encima

 



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