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poem for dad

estos corazones fueron tejidos de alegrías y de cuidados humanos
soy el viento que duda
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
nunca sabía que la tierra tenía tanto oro
sea paciente, vida, cuando el amor está en la puerta
en sus regimentals desiguales
hice un voto una vez, uno solamente
veo todos los ingenios humanos
dondeyo encuéntrele
pienso a menudo en la ciudad hermosa
podríamos sino saber
el misterio más oscuro, más extraño


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