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grandmother poem

solitario y solitario
paredes y enorme altos
los dĂ­as melancĂłlicos han venido
cuando voy de nuevo a la tierra
si muero, piense solamente esto en mĂ­
debajo del timĂłn del guerrero
sé lo que usted va a decir
dondeyo encuéntrele
aquĂ­ cae ninguna luz
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocĂ­o
llevo a cabo su corazĂłn
estoy muriendo

 



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