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sad poem

acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
a noite Ă© escura, e os ventos do inverno
eu sou o vento que wavers
tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verĂŁo brilhada
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
em nĂşmeros mournful
eu penso d esplĂŞndido justo
doubtless eu recordo ainda
antes do saint de bronze solemn
os dias endeared a cada MUSE
um pensamento doce solemn
olhar além

 



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