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son poem

eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
raça elevado-carregada
o amor foi cantado mil maneiras
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
diga-me
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
porque assim sad meu encantador?
poderíamos nós mas para saber
última meia-noite
prazeres mid e palácios embora nós podemos vaguear
melhore do que o granito
têm você andar visto através da vila
e pão do breaketh mais

 



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