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poem for pastors

a música i ouvido com você era mais do que a música
o mais saddest do ano
o que nós fará agora
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
e como poderia você sonho da reunião
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
desde que, se você estiver por meu lado hoje
meu amor verdadeiro de seu descanso levantou-se
mas alas, sonhos justos
assim perdido
glooms dos viv-carvalhos
eu fui acima e trago as ruas
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho

 



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