Odio la máscara y vicio Del corredor de mi hotel:
They have spent their
content of simpering,
Each dawn, kneeling before my hearth, Placing stick, crossing stick
When you get what you want in your struggle for self and the world makes you king for a day
Ulcerated tooth keeps me awake, there is
such pain, would have to go to the hospital to have
Dentro de mí hay un león enfrenado: De mi corazón he labrado sus riendas:
Allí despacio te diré mis cuitas; Allí en tu boca escribiré mis versos!—
Miss Otis regrets she's unable to lunch today,
Madam,
¿Del tirano? Del tirano Di todo, ¡di más!; y clava
Workingmen believed
He busted trusts,
De pie, cada mañana, Junto a mi áspero lecho está el verdugo.—
Ven, mi caballo, a que te encinche: quieren Que no con garbo natural el coso
Fuera del mundo que batalla y luce Sin recordar a su infeliz cautivo,
The Gypsies passed her little gate—
She stopped her wheel to see—
Cuando nací, sin sol, mi madre dijo: —Flor de mi seno, Homagno generoso
Pinta mi amigo el pintor Sus angelones dorados,
Having known war and peace
and loss and finding,
Leí estos versos de Ronsard: «Je vous envoie un bouquet que ma main
Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
How much death works,
No one knows what a long
(Memoria de presidio) Sí! yo también, desnuda la cabeza
I catch the pattern
Of your silence
When I am buried, all my thoughts and acts
Will be reduced to lists of dates and facts,
No me quites las canas Que son mi nobleza:
I hate the pen, the foolscap fair,
The poet’s corner, and the page,
At sixteen they laughed yonder, in the springtime afternoon.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
At Quincey's moat the squandering village ends,
And there in the almshouse dwell the dearest friends
Mis versos van revueltos y encendidos Como mi corazón: bien es que corra
I watched him one day fingering a shelf
Caressingly, forgetful of himself
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