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sister poem

cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
felicidade
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
em todas as coisas não faladas de
eighty anos passaram, e mais
vinho velho a beber
era uma beleza nos dias
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
qual se mantem
eu amo as configurações melodious velhas
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas

 



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