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christmas poems

su cara es justa y lisa y fina
lo van
cómo es salvaje, cómo bruja-como extraño que la vida debe ser
babylon -- donde voy a soñar
los cielos que eran ashen y sobrio
en sus brazos estaba el placer inmĂłvil
los arcos del puente rojo
rosas y oro
se hace el dĂ­a
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
para arropar el pensamiento ardiente
sobre ellas todas, mirando abajo
nunca sabĂ­a que la tierra tenĂ­a tanto oro

 



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