We turned hands. Wither above sea leave the moon ...
We turned off the hands. Above sea leave the moon fade
and got to walk the earth shadow fulfilled.
's too late now. Dawns come to offer their moist flowers. Blind
go. Go silent, looking at something that escapes our
to remote homeland.
(Our spirit should be,
riding the waves.)
's too late now. We put out hands
happy and we get to walk the earth shadow fulfilled.
We have fallen into a well that stifles dreams.
We felt the icy mouth of death to touch our mouth.
Before then, with what joy burning
how wonderful light of dawn mist
modeled in ephemeral, light breezes graze, our warm
hour. And how tight
hot udder. And how was beautiful
think that there was not yesterday, not tomorrow, or history.
's too late now, turn off your hands
happy and we get to walk the earth-completed shadow. How
wander the years, as twin stars, no fire, no light
like stars that are ignored.
Getting around without nostalgia, the way two different dreams
dreaming about love while collapses.
's too late now. We know. Think. (We were looking for souls.)
now know that the soul stone or flower is touched.
twins and non-stars as we pass, knowing that the soul
denied if the body refuses.
That never achieved if the body is achieved.
above sea
wither Leaving the moon.
do err, for years, no glory.
I accept that souls are vague dreams in dreams so
only occur, and alert are deleted.
What comfort there is to be, if achieving a drop of a soul is trying
capture the heartbeat of the earth, naked and round.
We are awake. We know. As proud stars, fallen, mouth feel
death glacial touch our mouth.
De "With the Stones, with the wind" 1950
José Hierro
GUEN DAY AND SALUT
¡¡¡¡¡
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