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lost love poem

los drowses pálidos del día en el occidental empapan
vea, de esta falsificación de él
a lo largo de los bancos
ella sabe un lanzamiento barato
cómo como las estrellas es este el blanco, las caras sin nombre
ochenta años han pasado, y más
me preguntan donde he estado
nobleza de la muerte otra vez
renueve la visión del placer
los pequeños rezos blancos
truely
allí por la ventana en la vieja casa
el cielo
nosotros que estaban parados

 



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