You Are My Cross and My Pain
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ the marvel
of your ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ eyes ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
the ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ rose of your ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ cheek ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
I ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ regret
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ no flower ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
for ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ my despair.
¦¦¦ you are my hidden treasure
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ my cross my ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ pain
if I am a dog ¦¦¦ you alone my master
¦¦¦¦¦ let me ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ Autumn.
(Blackout of Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint by Federico García Lorca)
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