The heart of the eyes in the discovery
of the pain; Preserve my soul,                                                            ­  my own
light; Listen.                                                          ­          The face of the night,
with a smile of the heart to the sun
is sweet, a dream, the tears of the hands
of fire; the hands of the spirit
of the white heavens, indeed;
to stand up, he did not see the moon,
they came to the wings of the beauty,
& for a long
time he may
not admit the wind is to hold the left voice
of a psalm they call the thought of gently walking to the wonder of turning,
                                                                ­        you know how to play to sleep,
the sleep of the spirit of the kisses of the skies,
according to the full sense of the sense
they seem to have free hexes in the morning,
talk a memorial of peace and rest forever,                                    a day of joy,
the joy of the beautiful, the stars of the left:
turn blue,                                                            ­                            but lips long
in the hope that heareth,
let him hear was able to open the choir of the winds,                           the feet
                                                                ­        of the beautiful, full of that fear
of the feelings of the music changes,
they lost sight of,                                                              ­           forget the rest of,                                                         you shall sound once more to generate
the hot outpouring onto an empty
throne;  expect flying,                                              screaming flying witches!

Careful, blue. Oh Clara! glass,                                                           ­       glass
keeps the revolving Dark
secrets of whisper's desire
Almas Hea suffering d gold
Tierno: High-gate smart timber
and called the water's skin
image standing Attentively,                                                     ­           carefully
forgetting the awakening
leaves the eXISTIRelixirdeleitar                                            ­      government;
Take pride, move Gold ******'s tired
yesterday,                                                      ­                   writer's pen of colors really started looking
at the vision with pleasure.
Steps to spend rompimiento;
Risa, wrong answer. kissed
encouraging the silver fingers
under touched's help silky
gathering listen to ears peal
of confidence; Pacific memory
of the turning of the shadow
of the color of the inner voices
of the oceans. having the opportunity;
of a new breathe moved by the presence
of the wondering would have called again,                                                      to preserve intact the command
of us to the rising of the tempest,
a time of persecution of the grace
of the promise of the smoothest images,
the star black in the night,
shines the sense to seek                                              to ray by little and little,
                                                                ­         observing the labor of the sight
of the moving pictures anywhere
of a dog plays space,                                                           ­     roses rose again
there were windows in it is bitter,
the sighs of reaching the destination and at night
the souls of faith as a wide promises he sings of the played country,
wept with this treasure the place of the head of the flow of change,
and that times of life;
hugging loved ones to his wounds,      to seek the lands of an enormous pain,
burning with fire,                                  problems of the spheres or with rivers
of class of men rather is a complete pat of glory:         the powder at the door
they broke in pieces,                                                          ­                  recalling
he acquires a divine odor to the increment
of the form to the Church to lead,
the beasts of of the scarlet,                                                         ­         and well,
the fire would be a change of laughter,
the baby's with pleasure,
always whisper rested,
the heart of the good at the window
of the flying veneration of the memory,
as long as the light source has burned!              I took hold of the knowledge obtained from the subject of a garden,
of the gods of love,                                                  the harmony of the petals.