A Paul Minelly, French. Je serai ton
Cercueil,
aimable pestilence! ...
Night of faint sighs
platonically unharmed:
kisses flying flocks and pairs of sighs;
drunk love its mild breezes swell
down, and willows
lot obsesses the water lilies as grim Huguenots
a silent emigration.
blue hour is the divine
it crosses the meteor as a metaphor for gold
by a large blue brain. A delighted
Istanbul surge de tu guardapelo,
y llevan su desconsuelo
hacia vagos ostracismos
floridos sonambulismos
y adioses de terciopelo.
En este instante de esplín,
mi cerebro es como un piano
donde un aire wagneriano
toca el loco del esplín.
En el lírico festín
de la ontológica altura,
muestra la luna su dura
calavera torva y seca,
y hace una rígida mueca
con su mandíbula oscura.
El mar, como gran anciano,
lleno de arrugas y canas,
junto a las playas lejanas
tiene rezongos de anciano.
Hay en acecho una mano
dentro del tembladeral;
y la súper sustancial
Vía Way I pretend
the skeleton of a Sphinx
dispersed in a wasteland. Singing
stutterers golden sentence of a flute, the echo goes
music changes their stuttering. The eyebrows of Buddha
piling the dark ravine,
opens a yawn of boredom
the lazy season,
and the mill is a spider
that stirs in the void. Let
lean my forehead on your forehead
subjective
the sick, sensitive
crescent of your forehead,
that
decadent cup of your pupil deep drink
wandering soul that gives me astral sciences
in spectral
hours of my life dying! Let
rhymes about dreams in your face
gardenia, neurasthenia
Fairy,
tragic light of my dreams! Merchants
henbane take me to the world that love;
Atalanta am the genius of that in his delirium
evokes the
Ecuador in your mouth and the pole of your throat!
With the shattered soul, I have a Calvary
in the world;
love and am dying, I have
shattered soul:
in store I cross your arms, your tears
bile salt;
your skilful nails, thorns
and two nails bright and spirited
aleonados
the eyes that fascinate me! Oh
moth in my lamp suicide
expires and twisted soul, evanescence
nocturnal lymphatic
taciturn opiates
my Nirvana, in your eyes stealth
espeluzna me your eroticism,
is the passion of the abyss
by Dark Angel !
(It's midnight). Frogs
torture on his accordion
a "piano" by Mendelssohn is a groan
frogs
talking about things far away, a cry
subtle and air
acrobatil
under the restless lake, the moon does pirouettes
ivory over a network. Play the wind
scented with the petals start, a very white
Chess
a fragrant;
folds the stream in the meadow
its range of glass, and brilliantly
abnormal Mount
pretends to distance a large bump
universal brain.
I come to you, snake eyes that sink
crimes unless,
the seven poisons
in the iris of their eyes red your cries
drink my bitter throes, while the funeral
crows, kings of
graves, watch as
of tormented souls obstinate dark!
You are posthumous and withered flower
mysterious erotic
miliunanochesca, mesmerizing, Styx
acre flower and withered;
you are absurd and bloody,
banished from Placer,
the paradox of being in the blur of nothingness, a houri desperate
Baudelaire's harem! Come
declines your head
of serious criminal
night about my gloomy face,
about my unfortunate head, his unruly
let your muse rarity
desolate
in the drama of our dumb Sacrificial
hugs I'll open
my arms a break of love!
Cercueil,
aimable pestilence! ...
Night of faint sighs
platonically unharmed:
kisses flying flocks and pairs of sighs;
drunk love its mild breezes swell
down, and willows
lot obsesses the water lilies as grim Huguenots
a silent emigration.
blue hour is the divine
it crosses the meteor as a metaphor for gold
by a large blue brain. A delighted
Istanbul surge de tu guardapelo,
y llevan su desconsuelo
hacia vagos ostracismos
floridos sonambulismos
y adioses de terciopelo.
En este instante de esplín,
mi cerebro es como un piano
donde un aire wagneriano
toca el loco del esplín.
En el lírico festín
de la ontológica altura,
muestra la luna su dura
calavera torva y seca,
y hace una rígida mueca
con su mandíbula oscura.
El mar, como gran anciano,
lleno de arrugas y canas,
junto a las playas lejanas
tiene rezongos de anciano.
Hay en acecho una mano
dentro del tembladeral;
y la súper sustancial
Vía Way I pretend
the skeleton of a Sphinx
dispersed in a wasteland. Singing
stutterers golden sentence of a flute, the echo goes
music changes their stuttering. The eyebrows of Buddha
piling the dark ravine,
opens a yawn of boredom
the lazy season,
and the mill is a spider
that stirs in the void. Let
lean my forehead on your forehead
subjective
the sick, sensitive
crescent of your forehead,
that
decadent cup of your pupil deep drink
wandering soul that gives me astral sciences
in spectral
hours of my life dying! Let
rhymes about dreams in your face
gardenia, neurasthenia
Fairy,
tragic light of my dreams! Merchants
henbane take me to the world that love;
Atalanta am the genius of that in his delirium
evokes the
Ecuador in your mouth and the pole of your throat!
With the shattered soul, I have a Calvary
in the world;
love and am dying, I have
shattered soul:
in store I cross your arms, your tears
bile salt;
your skilful nails, thorns
and two nails bright and spirited
aleonados
the eyes that fascinate me! Oh
moth in my lamp suicide
expires and twisted soul, evanescence
nocturnal lymphatic
taciturn opiates
my Nirvana, in your eyes stealth
espeluzna me your eroticism,
is the passion of the abyss
by Dark Angel !
(It's midnight). Frogs
torture on his accordion
a "piano" by Mendelssohn is a groan
frogs
talking about things far away, a cry
subtle and air
acrobatil
under the restless lake, the moon does pirouettes
ivory over a network. Play the wind
scented with the petals start, a very white
Chess
a fragrant;
folds the stream in the meadow
its range of glass, and brilliantly
abnormal Mount
pretends to distance a large bump
universal brain.
I come to you, snake eyes that sink
crimes unless,
the seven poisons
in the iris of their eyes red your cries
drink my bitter throes, while the funeral
crows, kings of
graves, watch as
of tormented souls obstinate dark!
You are posthumous and withered flower
mysterious erotic
miliunanochesca, mesmerizing, Styx
acre flower and withered;
you are absurd and bloody,
banished from Placer,
the paradox of being in the blur of nothingness, a houri desperate
Baudelaire's harem! Come
declines your head
of serious criminal
night about my gloomy face,
about my unfortunate head, his unruly
let your muse rarity
desolate
in the drama of our dumb Sacrificial
hugs I'll open
my arms a break of love!
Julio Herrera y Reissig.
Painting Francisco Trigueros.
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