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autumn poem

nas manhãs nuvem-cinzentas
há uma hora do descanso calmo
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
nobility da morte outra vez
última meia-noite
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
eu penso d esplêndido justo
dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
eu ouvi o vento o dia inteiro
a neve sussurra sobre mim
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred

 



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