Star She still comes in the afternoon,
transparent, brilliant in its way.
Looking which no is the first,
in tears and grace shines and burns.
It looks in its beauty without fanfare,
in essence called Triana.
with it and a star is not fantasy,
-so that the people wait for their light-
How many lights shine up there?
The same thanks to the sweetness,
like so many passions in a verse.
But only one passed this screening,
grief as neither her beauty wanes,
eclipses the star and universe.
0 comments:
Post a Comment