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child poem

e pão do breaketh mais
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
antes do saint de bronze solemn
estrela-poeira e luz vaporosa
não seja falso
há uma hora do descanso calmo
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
ao lado de um campo stricken
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
os dias endeared a cada MUSE
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
eu detestei-o

 



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