type of poem

she burst fierce wine
i never knew the earth had so much gold
through the broad earth's aching breast
there is a country full of wine
i am dying
who will be naming the wind
if i were very sure
melancholy days have come
let me move slowly through the street
i reside at table mountain
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
why then, must we see?
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies