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memorial poem

eu vou minha maneira complacently
levantou-se e o âmbar era o por do sol no rio
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
dê-me
a o que uma mulher a comparará beloved
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
tempestade
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
eu resido na montanha da tabela
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
eu estive pelo casement aberto
quando eu retornei no por do sol

 



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