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funeral poem

rode-me para baixo pelo prado
eu amei uma mulher
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
jogaram uma pedra, vocę jogaram uma pedra
para vir assim logo a isto imaginou a obscuridade
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingüeta
sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
para trás, gire para trás
assim perdido
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem

 



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