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sad poem

os arcos da ponte vermelha
uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
filhas do tempo
teria mesmo seu gracejo
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
fora de mim unworthy e desconhecido
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
com o por do sol
sob a folha dusky do laurel
eu gosto d
a escuridão rola para cima
cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
o sol está acima
ainda seu cinza balança a torre acima do mar

 



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