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autumn poem

non sia arrabbiato con me
perchč sono le cose che non hanno morte
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
sopra loro tutte, osservando giů
penso spesso alla cittŕ bella
su e giů va
riempio questa tazza
dolce e forte
lungo una riva del fiume
l'amore č stato cantato mille sensi
alcuni dei hurts che avete curato
che probabilitŕ spiteful ruba i unawares
ma alas, sogni giusti
notte mysterious

 



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