Does Gurdles Make U Loose Work

autumn rain was playing my flute

I was playing my flute
along the shore ;

and
bank was a trail of yellow daisies.


crystal field after the shaking of the breeze to listen better

water stopped. Notes

notes come and go, fragrant evening

lyric went, to the beat of my music,
gilding his fantasies,

and flying around me,
in water and in the breeze, a swarm
double
yellow butterflies. The slope was

honey, gold
on the vine, gold
vague mild satin jaral
of snowy flowers;

wherever Clear
stream hits the river, half opened
splendors of a sunset over the water
evening ... My flute

sunny
crying along the shore
left behind a trail of yellow daisies
...

( Juan Ramón Jiménez)