Lo bueno de los años es curan heridas,
lo malo de los besos es que crean adición;


Dance of the Dead (Poem) Of Camille Saint-Saëns this tale isDance of the Dead (Poem) by ~TheMarcelo
Oh, the things he saw in Hollow's Eve!
Face to face he came with black-caped Death;
With dancing bones and many a dread.
The night turned black, the moon never came
Graveyards and tombs awaited His claim,
Nightmares and fears with fiddle Death played;
Soon every deadman danced as He bade.
The haunting music reached Camille's ear
Even in sleep he was forced to stir,
And thus he sleepwalked out of his bed;
Eager to join the mischievous dead.
He celebrated for hours on end
All the corpses he came to befriend,
But fiddle stopped with the coming sun;
Camille woke and with him there were none!
