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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-08-13 | [Ce texte devrait être lu en english] | Inscrit à la bibliotèque par Edilberto González Trejos
Although you sit in a room that is gray,
Except for the silver Of the straw-paper, And pick At your pale white gown; Or lift one of the green beads Of your necklace, To let it fall; Or gaze at your green fan Printed with the red branches of a red willow; Or, with one finger, Move the leaf in the bowl-- The leaf that has fallen from the branches of the forsythia Beside you... What is all this? I know how furiously your heart is beating.
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