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autumn poem

algum queixou-se ao mestre
eu fui acima e trago as ruas
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
apenas agora
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
qual eu desejo observar
pássaros de encontro ao vento de abril
não pendure nenhuma grinalda
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
dê-me a fome
a escuridão rola para cima

 



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