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modern poetry

minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
há um país completamente do vinho
eu ouvi o vento o dia inteiro
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
porque assim sad meu encantador?
estourou o vinho feroz
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
antes do saint de bronze solemn

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

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  • Correspondent roll call: Synergy writers chime in - Carroll County Times
  • A Kennedy Goes Public - Wall Street Journal
  • Veterans coping with war experiences turn to writing - Riverside Press Enterprise
  • Cataloguing the Oppression (Gay City News)
  • Woman killed after Enid police chase - Tulsa World
  • Urdu literary body launches website - Peninsula On-line
  • Cuba In A Different Light (The Tampa Tribune)
 

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