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kid poem

expresemos nuestras pasiones más bajas
no esté enojado con mí
este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos
levantado de los muertos
y como caminamos la hierba fue revuelta débilmente
muy bien, usted liberales
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
del sol ni de estrellas
qué yo le deben
ella tiene un claro, loveliness viento-abrigado
en la medianoche
por lo tanto no puedo
pienso a menudo en la ciudad hermosa
mi alma va revestida en cosas magníficas

 



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