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romantic poetry

pela ponte rude
eu ganhei a raça
nas manhăs nuvem-cinzentas
eu sou o vento que wavers
um pensamento doce solemn
o movimento do seu corpo é como a música
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
na meia-noite
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade
a neve sussurra sobre mim
e como poderia vocę sonho da reuniăo
sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá

 



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