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non sia falso
sto cantando voi
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
siete il mio compagno
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente è stata mescolata
ancora tredici anni
quegli occhi neri i una volta così elogiato
siete chiari
sposti la terra in tempo nuvoloso
metà di piaceri e palazzi benchè possiamo vagare
ad alcuno i dii grassi

 



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