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a algum os deuses gordos
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
travails da terra
dentro de minha mĂŁo eu prendo
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
uma palavra do vôo de aqui e lá
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
sĂŁo idos os trĂŞs, aquelas irmĂŁs raras
nĂŁo do mundo largo do todo
se eu souber o narrow uma prisĂŁo Ă© amor
sobre o rio, no monte
ruĂ­dos que strive rasgar
em e sobre

 



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