A Una Calavera by Lope de Vega
This head, when alive had
On the architecture of its bones
Flesh and hair, by which the eyes,
That stopped to look at it, were made prisoners.
Here the pink mouth was
Fading already with such cold kisses,
Here the emerald eyes were imprinted,
Color that entertained so many souls.
Here the judgment that was
The source of all movement,
Here the powers of harmony.
Oh mortal beauty, kite in the wind!,
Where such lofty presumption lived,
The worms despise the chamber.
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