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fall poem

os dias endeared a cada MUSE
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
sob a folha dusky do laurel
quando uma ação for feita para a liberdade
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
eu não queimo nenhum incense
algum queixou-se ao mestre
você é meu companheiro
nós que estiveram
eu verei uma estrela hoje à noite
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
eu vi a primeira pera
ainda treze anos

 



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