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autumn poetry

eu fui acima e trago as ruas
são você vivo?
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
este é o arsenal
a o que uma mulher a comparará beloved
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
fora de mim unworthy e desconhecido
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
nobility da morte outra vez
ainda seu cinza balança a torre acima do mar
sumário em uma noite do vôo
na meia-noite

 



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