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sad poem

i drowses pallidi di giorno sull'occidentale bagnano
mondo che cambia sotto la mia mano
stella-polvere e luce vaporous
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
sono il vento che esita
le preghiere bianche piccole
ha incurvato l'inondazione
una penna di acciaio
quando un atto è fatto per la libertà
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
ho visto che hunched e rabbrividendo sulle pietre
i loro capelli bei
ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo
nei numeri mournful

 



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