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love poem quote

naranjas de desplume nubian azul-negras
estoy muriendo
oĂ­ el viento todo el dia
el movimiento de su cuerpo es como mĂşsica
esos ojos negros i elogiado una vez tan
el cielo
cuando un hecho se hace para la libertad
espléndido y terrible su amor
soy el viento que duda
cuando volvĂ­ en la puesta del sol
a alguno los dioses gordos
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
por el puente grosero

 



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