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friendship poems

a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
uma milha atrás
tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verão brilhada
perguntam-me onde eu estive
receoso não mais, eu digo
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
deixe-nos plantar
o que nós fará agora
cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
quem estará nomeando o vento
teria mesmo seu gracejo
a escuridão rouba os formulários de todas as rainhas
assim perdido

 



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