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sad love poem

como ele de quem espĂ­rito na chama do meio-dia
do sol nem das estrelas
havia trĂŞs no prado pelo ribeiro
talvez
melhore do que o granito
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
algum queixou-se ao mestre
noite misteriosa
eu vi que o deus vocĂŞ a duvida?
até sua janela da câmara
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
eighty anos passaram, e mais
abaixo do helm do guerreiro

 



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