South wind
Dark and burning,
soaked with orange blossoms,
you come over my flesh,
bringing me seed
of brilliant gazes.
Pones roja la luna
y sollozantes
los alamos cautivos,
pero vienes
,demasiado tarde !
,Ya he enrollado la noche
de mi cuento en el estante !
You turn the moon red,
make captive poplars moan,
but you've come
too late !
I've already scrolled up the night
of my tale on the shelf ?
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