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christmas poems

são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
e nse
este é o arsenal
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
material da lua
o alvorecer era verde maçã
desolado e solitário
fora do mar sparkling
eu vi-o uma vez antes
quem é o corredor nos céus
olhe para fora em cima das estrelas, meu amor
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore

 



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