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sorry poem

veja, desta moeda falsa dele
eu sei não onde
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
sob a folha dusky do laurel
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
gaily através dos campos nós dançamos
quando o véu dos olhos for levantado
apenas agora
acima dos prados ricos com milho
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
os arcos da ponte vermelha
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
mulher boa

 



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