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best love poems

die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
Sie sagen, daß Sie mich lieben
war sie nicht für diesen einzigartigen Geruch
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
fällt hier kein Licht
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
steigender Mond hat die Sterne versteckt
eine Feder des Stahls
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein

 



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