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e con l'uccello di ronzio
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
quando vado di nuovo a terra
era una bellezza nei giorni
la mia anima č un campo arato scuro
li ho sentiti nella notte
migliori che il granito
i loro capelli bei
morbido come la base nella terra
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
il prato stava strisciando

 



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