Rimas Ix Poem by Gustavo Adolfo Becquer
Rimas Ix
Besa el aura que gime blandamente
Las leves ondas que jugando riza;
El sol besa a la nube en occidente
Y de purpura y oro la matiza;
La llama en derredor del tronco ardiente
Por besar a otra llama se desliza,
Y hasta el sauce, inclinandose a su peso,
Al rio, que le besa, vuelve un beso.
Monday, October 18, 2010
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5/4/2024 1:06:35 PM # 1.0.0.1119
