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christian poem

acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
gaily através dos campos nós dançamos
têm você ouvido
talvez
pela ponte rude
raça elevado-carregada
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
os arcos da ponte vermelha
veja que eu me dou a você
eu ouvi o vento o dia inteiro
o que era ele os motores ditos
acima dos prados ricos com milho

 



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