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death poetry

até sua janela da câmara
eu vi a primeira pera
a lua levantando-se escondeu as estrelas
veio fazer exame de me pela mão
fora de mim unworthy e desconhecido
nós colocamos
nós não éramos muitos
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
ao longo de um river-side
como um homem despido mim vai
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
mulher boa
em setembro
uma tempestade está montando na maré

 



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