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epic poetry

aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
vocĂŞ Ă© bonito e desvanecido
havia trĂŞs no prado pelo ribeiro
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
flores dos bebĂŞs
levantado dos mortos
eu ando abaixo os trajetos do jardim
a mĂşsica i ouvido com vocĂŞ era mais do que a mĂşsica
sabe uma liberação barata
estes sejam
quando vocĂŞ vier hoje Ă  noite
nenhuma rapina Ă© mim de pensamentos pobres
homem frio stern

 



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