The Dictators
blow on blow, in the ghastly water of the swamp,
and join the dead voices
The delicate dictator is talking
and the blue mouthhttps://read.99csw•coms freshly buried.
Hatred has grown scale on scale,
The Dictators
and the rapid laugh九_九_藏_書s with gloves on
cross the corridors at times
with a snout full of ooze and silence
The tiny palace gleams like a watch
Betw
https://read.99csw•comeen the coconut palms the graves are fullwhose seeds fall endlessly on the earth,
whose large blind leaves grow even withhttps://read.99csw.comout light.
An odor has remained among the sugarcane:
a mixture of blood and body, a penetrating
Pablo Neruda
petal t九九藏書hat brings nausea.
of ruined bones, of speechless death-rattles.
with top hats, gold braid, and collars.
The weeping cannot be seen, like a plant