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death poem

eu quero saber onde você vive
tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verão brilhada
não esteja irritado com mim
estourou o vinho feroz
sol e vento e batida do mar
para trás, gire para trás
um pássaro cantou
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
em todas as coisas não faladas de
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem

 



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