Poem By Harthman Carpio Munteanu
I must confess to you my dearest
Bowing my head before your beauty,
Within the sight of your perfection
Nothing will ever stand up straight
That underneath this sweet appearance
I spotted mourn and sad dim light;
You hide so well the accusations...
Must be the curse upon the great
What beats inside this fragile body?
What chains you keep and do not break?
You look so strong for the outsiders
While... your inside it crawls and shakes
What came and ravished all your being;
Then left you there and, so cold hearted,
Had put this wound into your soul?
Oh, lovers, how they make mistakes!
You should have come to me, my love
I would've kept you safe and treasured
You know the way I am, my wrongs
And that I'll give nothing but pleasure!