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teen poetry

acima dos prados ricos com milho
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
eu tenho que dizer good-night
porque então, a obrigação nós vê?
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
eu estou no amor com lugares far-seeing elevados
a criança que jogou afastado a folha após a folha
têm você não ouvido
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
em seu vôo
levantado dos mortos
tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verão brilhada
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar

 



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