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death poem

uccelli contro il vento di aprile
il sole č in su
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
quando ero un ragazzo all'universitŕ
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta cosě tanto oro
conosco non dove
molto bene, voi liberali
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
osservare di lŕ
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
ciň č la canzone della gioventů
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso

 



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