Poemas a la muerte
Poemas a la muerte «Secrets» is a daily word
Yet does not exist —
Muffled — it remits surmise —
Murmured — it has ceased —
Dungeoned in the Human Breast
Doubtless secrets lie —
But that Grate inviolate —
Goes nor comes away
Nothing with a Tongue or Ear —
Secrets stapled there
Will emerge but once — and dumb —
To the Sepulchre —
â—„
