From the freind
Some are born .the othets die Some walk The others cry Mountains, rivers
The souls Of the good Are a wonder The souls Of the good
..tell me friend is life not like… It must take work to get a hold of ...ah..but after the work.... The golden sweetness..
Blessed be the calm and tranquil Blessed be the man Who does not loose sight Of the virtous horizon Blessed be the honor inside
There was the door With pain it opened It was dark Black as can be For you see
Destino Viene de arriba Leyendas El hombre De acciones
I am a bad man....
En el monte Se escuchan Las acordiones Al cielo cantan La balada
Those tales of Men who souls are… Those tales of virtuous bandits...…
As a child I was told Of a story true A man old In his last days he saw Incredible beauty
Ah!..san diego!.....the city the gem tucked between mountain and sea where men of honor are made where strength is born in cultured people of immpeccable intent work is hard work is hon...
Para aser las cosas bien el homre…
He had been Up on the hills For some time He was seeing Through a haze
Have you seen me?... If you have Can you please Tell me To come back
I do not write poetry out of distr…