but no i,

nor is my house now my house.

--let me climb up, at least,

up to the high balconies;

let me climb up! let me,

up to the green balconies.

45

railings of the moon

ter rumbles.

nowo friends climb up,

up to the high balconies.

leaving a trail of blood.

leaving a trail of teardrops.

tin bell vines

rembling on the roofs.

a tal tambourines

struck at t.

green, you green,

green wind, green branches.

two friends climbed up.

tiff

in trange taste

of bile, of mint, and of basil

my friend, well me--

wter girl?

imes sed for you!

imes would s for you,

cool face, black hair,

on this green balcony!

over te

the gypsy girl was swinging,

green flesh, her hair green,

h eyes of cold silver.

an icicle of moon

er.

t became intimate

like a little plaza.

drunken “guardias civiles“

he door.

green, you green.

green wind. green branches.

t on the sea.

and tain.