*Pablo Neruda- El Libro des las Preguntas
219
Child of worry
Day of gentle blessing
The north bridge to night
Carries us over the river scented- it
Seems as an awkward perfume-it
Smells of old men greeting dawn on the other side
Faith yawns as souls are washed away
The saint of streets raises a tiny glass-full of night
To her dark mouth and with a shaking hand
Finds a place to alight.
You-man who liked the suddenly cheery
Journey then passed your ticket to
The usual women who tucked it in gloves
And stumbled off down the road.
Child of worry
Day of gentle blessing
The north bridge to night
Carries us over the river scented- it
Seems as an awkward perfume-it
Smells of old men greeting dawn on the other side
Faith yawns as souls are washed away
The saint of streets raises a tiny glass-full of night
To her dark mouth and with a shaking hand
Finds a place to alight.
You-man who liked the suddenly cheery
Journey then passed your ticket to
The usual women who tucked it in gloves
And stumbled off down the road.
1 comment:
nice work dude
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