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acrostic poem

com o por do sol
acima dos prados ricos com milho
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
o dia é feito
dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se
eu verei uma estrela hoje à noite
estrela-poeira e luz vaporosa
como uma vela branca
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira
a o que uma mulher a comparará beloved
e meu nome é truthful
o prado estava rastejando
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas

 



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