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poem for pastors

glass-blower do tempo
havia um strangeness em seus bordos
eu vi que o deus vocĂŞ a duvida?
melancolia, azul era
era muitas e muito um ano há
existir da cisne
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
o corpo pode confinar
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
e assim vai
o céu
o Ăşnico punho clenched levantado e apronta-se

 



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