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birthday poem

glass-blower do tempo
no porto de york novo
um pĂŞssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
nas manhĂŁs nuvem-cinzentas
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou
sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá
qual se mantem
o que nós fará agora
eu quero saber Ă s vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
calma como que segundo verĂŁo
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar
Ă© frequentemente nĂŁo assim?
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira

 



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