Capitolo 13
III. INTERLUDE
The warm dreams of sun in the dust, the warm falls of sun
On bright red roofs and walls;
The trees in the park exhale a pluvius ghost;
We go again from door to door in the roads,
Speaking, laughing, dreaming, turning our faces,
Other times that recall and places. . .
We crowd there, not intelligent because, around a gate,
We crowd together there and attend him,
A stretcher is performed, bawls are stilled,
The ambulance drives away.
We look at his/her roof flash from, feels that someone says
'A skin of man by the building and you/he/she was killed--
Demolishes right in a barrel. . .' We turn again
Among the frightened eyes of white-faced men,
And it goes our separate ways, every being born with him
A thing that he tries, but vainly, to forget,--
An ill crowd, a stretcher red and wet.
A hurdy-gurdy sings in the crowded road,
The gilded notes ignore on the stones illuminated by the sun,
Wings are on our feet.
The sun seems more heat, the road of brighter winding,
Come sparrows humming down in a cloud of light.
We bear our dreams among us, you bear them everybody,
Likes music of their hurdy-gurdy they rise and they fall,
You climb to the beauty and dies.
The loving and wandering dreams of the mouth of his/her person in love,
And it smiles at the hostile sky.
The more smokes without money his/her pipe, and he/she sees a fortune.
The assassin feels a whine.
IV. NIGHTMARE
'Sketches three cards, and I will say Your future. . .
Sketches three cards, and I set down them,
Remains Your palms on them, you fix the crystal,
And he/she thinks about time. . . My father was a clown,
My mother was out a gypsy of Egypt;
And she was found with child in a strange way;
And I was born in a cold eclipse of the moon,
With the future in my eyes clear as day.'
I sit in front of the gold-embroidered curtain
And he/she thinks his/her face it is as a wrinkled desert.
The crystal burns in lamplight under of my eyes.
A dragon slowly winds on the scaly curtain.
On a scarlet cloth a white lies of skull.
'Your hand is on the hand that contains three lilies.
You will live from very, hooks a lot of times.