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abaixo do helm do guerreiro
sobre o rio beckon a mim
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
eu penso d esplęndido justo
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta
o que nós fará agora
no recolhimento da escuridăo e pedem
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
dentro de minha măo eu prendo

 



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