Unthoughtful

Unthoughtful I was .. When my memory fell down in my hand Those memory that do not have only the flow from the fountains of your eyes. , Unthoughtful I was.. Perhaps, at the dawn of crimson, Fascinated I was,O elegant In my poem which live Such as blueberry Earth Here in exile here. Fascinated I was,in her shivering letter Which is like a grain of blueberry soft Slip on your lips. , Oh .. How trapped we were on harbours poem How meek we were on her flow , How good and loyal we were to the glory writing