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erotic poem

se ele
em setembro
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
com alegria e maravilha
para a verdade, para o amor
quem ama a chuva
eighty anos passaram, e mais
para vir assim logo a isto imaginou a obscuridade
muito bem, você liberais
pela ponte rude
tem um espaço livre, loveliness vento-protegido
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são
tempestade

 



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