In my room, the world is beyond my understanding;
But when I walk I see that it consists of three or four
       hills and a cloud.
From my balcony, I survey the yellow air,
Reading where I have written,
“The spring is like a belle undressing.”
The gold tree is blue,
The singer has pulled his cloak over his head.
The moon is in the folds of the cloak.

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angel plant
más de 7 años

amazing it is beautiful

más de 7 años

absolutely stunning, beautiful word choices and imaginary, of which makes your poem a most delightful read. thanks so much for sharing xoxo


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