Classic Poem

Is is the affection and since this was open in the winter and frothy rumor of her house which was purified drinks and foods-it is the charm of leaky sites and the superhuman delight stations. He is affection and the future strength and love that we, standing in rage and boredom, we see across the sky and storm flags ecstasy.
It is love, perfect measuring and reinvented, marvelous and unexpected reason, and eternity loved Machine fatal qualities. We all had the horror of its concession and ours: O enjoyment of our health, boost our faculties, selfish affection and passion for him, him who loves us to the infinite life ...
And we remember and travels ... And if Adoration goes, rings, promise rings "Rear these superstitions, the old body, these households and these ages. It's that time it has fallen! "
He did not go, it does not sink down a heaven, he will not perform the redemption of the anger of women and men merriment and all sin, for it is actually being him and being loved.
O his breaths, his heads, his races: the terrible speed of the perfection of form and action.
O fertility of mind and vastness of the universe!
Her body! release dreamed of smashing through the window of new violence!
His view, the view! all former kneelings and penalties identified in its wake.
His day! the abolition of all sound and moving suffering in more intense music.
Its not! migration more massive than the old invasions.
O Him and us! the most benevolent charities that lost pride.
O world! and clear vocals of new misfortunes!
He knew us all and loved us all: let us, winter night, from cape to cape, the tumultuous pole to the castle, the crowd at the beach, looks in looks, strength and tired feelings, and the hail see, and send it, and under tides and high deserts of snow, follow his views, his breath, his body, his day.