اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
The wind quartet howls softly
My jeep hand strokes her necklace
Crusted, crammed with old Etruscan gold
Her bird head torn with summer
Inspects a Spartan runner
Robbing time a chosen Prince of Speed
My goblet drenched with Autumn
Tears for my dead cat Ena
Silver Surfer sorcerer of spray
She headed deep in chartreuse
A falcon glimpse of white teeth
Separated by lace cinnamon folds
We hid and rid in hansom
Cab wrenched from lost Byzantium
