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brother poem

all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
come io aiuti alla destra il mondo che sta andando male
tristemente parlando
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
forse č materia che avete morto
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
ha incurvato l'inondazione
non ci č fuga dal fiume
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
le ombre delle navi
non eravamo molti

 



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