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romantic love poem

a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira
dentro de minha mão eu prendo
os corredores de mármore resounding longos
lá pela janela na casa velha
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
porque então, a obrigação nós vê?
deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
era uma beleza nos dias
sumário em uma noite do vôo
existir da cisne
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
é frequentemente não assim?

 



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