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sad poem

splendor doce
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
e como poderia você sonho da reunião
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
acima de e para baixo vai
deus
vivido pelo river-side
fora do mar sparkling
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
receoso não mais, eu digo
faça os meninos e as meninas vão ainda
laranjas arrancando nubian azul-pretas

 



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