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sad poetry

sombras coas alas que barren cerca
todos tragan los ańos
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
su pelo hermoso
sobre-habi'a preparado el acontecimiento
sueńo dulce en sus sepulcros humildes
cuando volví en la puesta del sol
aunque repine del amor, y rozadura de la razón
había un strangeness en sus labios
un destello del oro en gloom y gris
serene de la tarde y brillante verdes
truely
ella estalló el vino feroz

 



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