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child poem

as montanhas săo povos silenciosos
a senhora, seu coraçăo girou para a poeira
macia weeping
quando, cheio do amor morno e ansioso
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
os poetas dizem
eu sei năo onde
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
a lua levantando-se escondeu as estrelas
mundo que muda sob minha măo
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente

 



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