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suicide poem

eu estou cantando-lhe
o ar Ă© como uma borboleta
uma palavra do vôo de aqui e lá
existir da cisne
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
o que mim lhe devem
há qualquer um lá
em e sobre
melancolia, azul era
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
pela costa, pelo mar
fora de mim unworthy e desconhecido
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
olhe para trás com olhos longing e saiba que eu seguirei

 



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