- No, no!
and the dirtyneck boy starts crying and running
without getting away, in a moment, on the streets.
His hands,
he's got something in his hands!
he doesn't know what it is, but he runs to the dawn
With his hidden prize.
Endlessly beforehand, we know what his trophy is;
something ignored, that the soul keeps awake in us.
We almost start to glitter inside his gold
with extravagant nakedness...
- No, no!
and the dirtyneck boy starts crying and running
without getting away, in a moment, on the street.
The arm is strong, it could easily grab him...
The heart, also a beggar, lets him go.
Juan Ramón Jiménez
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-dreaming/
