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I go where the blades of grass tell me to gowith the clouds, with the traffic I walk where the leaves of the trees fall at my feetwith the crowds, with the birds, I hold hands with the seasand the skies up above, is this love?I am the poet of common sense and of the demonstrable of the immortalityI am not the poet of goodness alone, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness alsoI hold hand with the seas and the skies up abovehere in front of me, no hear inside of mehear! in spite of me because of me, a tree standsleaves outside of space that falls from meand falls on me, where I standin front of myself I walk through myselfI go where the blades tell me to gowhere the leaves fall at my feet with the crowds, with the birds, I hold hands with the seasand with the skies up abovethis is lovewith the crowds, with the birdsI am less the reminder of propriety or qualitiesand more the reminder of lifeand go on the square for my own sake, for others' sakemake short account of neuters and geldings in favor of men and women fully equippedbeating the gong of revoltto stop with fugitives to stop to plot and conspire a word of realityLetras de cancionesthe endless unfolding of words, of agesand mind a word of the moderna word of the faith that never balksone time as good as anotherhere or henceforth, it is all the samethe wonder is always and alwaysalways is how and how could be mean and man could be well behaved in the pastor behaving the wonderwell where I say what will I saydo what is right do what we affirm could be rightright to walk where the leaves falling, falling at right angles to fall at my feetwith the crowds with the birds holding hands with the seas listening to the blades of grassthey tell me to gowith the clouds with the trafficwalking and listening singing and holdingthis is lovethis is the end of spacethe end of space as we know ithere in front of meno here inside of mehere in spite of myself, because of myselfwhere a tree always stands and leaves always falloutside of itself, inside of itselfand space falls for me and falls to the groundI stand in front of myself walking through myselfthrowing myself on the groundholding hands with myselfholding hands with the seas and the skies up abovesinging and calling to bind with the treesto bind with the birds, the clouds and the trafficfalling at birdsholding hands with the seasgoing where space and blades of grass tell me to goweaving the space and the blades where one starts and another beginsbeginning outside and folding outside From Letras Mania