WHO I AM IN MY POEMS

This time I come to Australia, with a grain to hug my cousin Nicky Troccoli, so it also receives the love of your entire family by the State of Arizona USA.
This poem dear cousin you talk anything about me and what my soul longs, again all our love to you.

I just bring my poems in the song
born in the windows of years.
They bring in the real time clocks.
Also enclose the gulf words
those who speak on blind corners.
I, who travel through life,
bring the gender gap in fire
marked in white silk,
some wedding dresses.

Hence this patch, immortal, full of omissions,
was laid before the wedding.
White taught her the star of hope,
Illuminating the beginning of the road.
Me in my poems,
loose the song of my soul:
and a single green leaf,
full of lines and colors
decorating trees asleep on the planet.

I ask forgiveness from anyone,
because the way my lyrics
is a nuisance to the eye shape setback.
I repeat the song of the clouds,
sound of bells and cheerful winds
alone as a hand that we lose life.
The furrows, yes:
those living in the fields of my village,
I give no words or alphabets
arrears only as a green smile
grow in a moist deep
paradise of roots and lettuce.

This is something you pick up on the journey of the minutes
and a smile
Now that spring from your mouth.
I extend my hand,
into your home to look away hills
in the task of reconstructing it,
that for some this disorganized.
I extend thanks to the remoteness of here,
the path of your eyes
in my few words scattered
and the joyous charm collected,
bells because it comes from some of my people.

Spain gave a language one days to my relatives,
as an inheritance in hours and almanacs
bathed in millions of seconds,
a bag of memories by the time you save.
Always bring my word as a traveler,
from a land of sweat ara stricken.
If a land that speaks a language which does not belong to him,
because she always smiled and spoke the sound,
long and inhabiting the vast silences,
a copper beats the buzz of the jungle.
Today, someone calls me because the smoke
grows and spreads from my papers,
leaving only the eyes intentions
give a hug from the curious eyes.

I was expelled from school
that we study and learn where the rights
leaving for the University of the disaffected.
I found a better job,
The plow that raises the food to the friends of the earth.

Negor Len