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death poem

receoso não mais, eu digo
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira
eu encho este copo
eu tenho que dizer good-night
esse companheiro estranho veio em baralhar os pés
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
agora quando meus bordos viverem
acima de e para baixo vai
as sombras dos navios
calma como que segundo verão
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel

 



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