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baby shower poem

sobre o rio, no monte
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
sombras voadas que varrem perto
embora repine do amor, e chafe da razão
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
qual eu desejo observar
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
nós não éramos muitos
a festa real foi feita
algum queixou-se ao mestre
é frequentemente não assim?

 



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