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pumpkin poem

algum queixou-se ao mestre
rosas e ouro
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
esse companheiro estranho veio em baralhar os pés
há uma hora do descanso calmo
gloom
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
na terra silenciosa

 



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