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os dias hypocritic
vontade você glimmer no mar?
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
sob a folha dusky do laurel
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
quando o véu dos olhos for levantado
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
fora de mim unworthy e desconhecido
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
eu fui acima e trago as ruas

 



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